


The In-Between

by Lindel



Series: What We Fight For [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: (and lots of it), (same with Osiris), Angst, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I love Zavala but I do questions his choices a bit as a warning, M/M, Main goal is the Guardian dealing with burnout and getting some saint-14 TLC on top of it, Multi, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Story with some connected (and not connected) oneshots, The Guardian has no specified gender species or class, We've been through a lot as a Guardian, Will cover Shadowkeep and Season of the Dawn (hopefully), don't worry it will get resolved later though :), see chapter 10 note, story put on hiatus/discontinued atm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22282675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindel/pseuds/Lindel
Summary: “It’s not just me you’ve helped, you know. So many others,” Saint-14 says in wonderment. “Week after week, you work tirelessly to bring whatever aid you can, oftentimes with what I think isn’t enough recognition. Tell me; when was the last time you actually wanted to do something?”The Guardian is tired. Only Saint-14 seems to truly notice.
Relationships: (again after working through some conflict res), (past) Osiris/Saint-14 (Destiny), Female Guardian/Saint-14 (Destiny), Guardian/Saint-14 (Destiny), Male Guardian/Saint-14 (Destiny), Nonbinary Guardian/Saint-14 (Destiny), Osiris/Saint-14 (Destiny), Saint-14 (Destiny)/Reader
Series: What We Fight For [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622854
Comments: 99
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [november 28 2020 note] - with the confirmation of Osiris and Saint, which as you have seen I had plans on bringing a resolution to the earlier conflict in this story (and even having a multiship down the line) even though I write the guardian as nonbinary in this (and being nb and queer myself) I need to decide whether or not I want to continue this story. I'm very happy for the representation, so I sure ain't complaining, and while there's not that much left on this one, the plan for continuing the story was as follows:  
> Rasputin/the almighty (one chap only, watching the shit get blown up, I mostly have YW/Saint sit out because I actually really hated that season lol)  
> Season of Arrivals  
> \- Prophecy (we go in with saint)  
> \- Worries over the pyramids – discussions on the Darkness, the things that were seen inside the dungeon (dialogue would be changed, and this was where stuff with Osiris would slowly begin again)  
> \- FotL stuff (like with the ship, whatever the fuck the ascendant lens was, us going to investigate on that + actually giving a reason for it)  
> Bridging the gap from Shadowkeep to BL  
> \- working on getting osiris un-exiled since saint is concerned, and YW doing most of the legwork to make that happen  
> \- (as well as a lot of just general worldbuilding to get back to this point, as well as just. more so not necessarily ot3 but yw/saint as one thing and saint/osiris as another, so it'd be poly but not necessarily a love triangle and having mutual respect between both parties (ppl are immortal, theres enough saint to go around lmao)
> 
> So as of right now, I'm not sure what to do, but I'm going to say i'm going to put this on a halt officially as i consider my options. Regardless, thank you for reading, and if you have any input on what to do any comments or advice is appreciated :). As a lgbtq+ person myself I am very happy with the representation, and even as this story is a queer story and I had plans to incorporate more o14, so I'm still at the momoment considering my options especially as this was started before the lore/extras really started to go in and confirm this (literally written as saint/season of the dawn was entering the game, so yeah haha). Regardless, i hope you enjoy what's here, and thank you for reading :) and go saint/osiris go!
> 
> original note: Oooooh man has it been a long time since I wrote fanfiction. Two years at least?? Anyways, I'm rusty, so hopefully this is good haha. I recently got into Destiny for the first time thanks to some friends, and I immediately worked towards finishing the available quests on Mercury and loved it - little did I know, I finished a week before the Season of the Dawn was announced! I love Saint-14 (and Osiris) a lot and with my entire heart, both of them are Very Good and I hope to add more to this as time goes on. I want to do some one-shots and maybe AUs as well. Please let me know what you think, and if you have any suggestions!
> 
> As a general warning, this fic will be discussing things such as PTSD, depression, and other areas of mental health. Nothing will ever be described in too much detail, as the main focus of this is fluff with Saint, but the chapters leading up to it will be discussing the mental state of our Guardian. Saint will be providing help, but as always, be careful, and take care of yourselves. :)

“…And that’s all the important details from the strike. My ghost is forwarding you the logs as we speak, Commander.” You’re all business, exhausted as you are, but that was the last mission you had planned for the week, thank the Traveler. All of your bounties were complete, and you had no last-minute requests for help to uphold, so far as you knew. You pause as a wave of vertigo overtakes you, bracing yourself on the closest object – a desk – nearby.

Softly, quietly, more to yourself than anything – “I can still hear their screams, Commander.”

You’re not sure if your cry for help is heard, amidst the flurry of note-taking and orders being given from Zavala and Ikora both as you witness the chaos of the briefing room. You knew your problems weren’t something either of the remaining Vanguard could help with; how they dealt with Cayde’s death proved that well enough.

Your time on the moon has done you no good, to be frank. Helping Eris bring closure to the loss of her fireteam was the only part you really cared about, and now, the looming threat of Darkness was almost too much.

Seeing all those phantoms of fallen Guardians that float overhead, and in every nook and cranny... Their final cries for help refused to leave your conscience. You had helped as many as you could, but you were so, so tired. The relentless assault of the Hive and Hashladûn, on the other hand, at least was something familiar.

 _At this rate_ , you mused to yourself soberly _, there isn’t going to be any more children or relatives of Crota or Oryx left for me to continue this blood feud. All the better, I guess._

You’re called back to reality at the sound of your name from Zavala’s eternally stressed baritone. It’s a dismissal – _thank the Traveler –_ and you’re free to go. You’re not sure where to, just yet, but you need some time alone. It’s hard not to be recognized in the tower given everything that you’ve achieved, from fighting Vex, to the Scorn, and now time-travelling Cabal.

Your ghost understands your pain, at the very least, with them constantly getting bombarded by messages from other Ghosts asking for help on behalf of their Guardians or themselves.

>> _Hero-worship seems to come in all shapes and sizes, <<_ they say into your head with a tired laugh.

If there was any consolation for your hidden misery, the return of Saint-14 has at least brought you someone you _want_ to help. He’s been nothing but kind to you, even offering support in whatever way he can, and you dearly appreciate it. The poor Titan has been swarmed by other, eager Guardians since the moment of his arrival, however, so asking him for help with your stress was out of the question. His deep baritone, however, was a balm upon your weary soul, and sometimes you found yourself wishing you could spend more time with him instead.

 _No need to make him any more overwhelmed by people than he probably already is, though_ , you reason to your Ghost, who agrees in an instant.

You decide to just head back to your apartment, and try and avoid as many people as possible on your way there. The tower plaza is busy, as is the norm, and you volley yourself over some of the barricades to dodge some of the larger crowds. You think you can hear someone calling your name, in the distance, but the _thunk_ of landing on metal drowns it out.

The sound of conversation fades as you head near the Guardian barracks and apartments, with almost everyone by this time of day either being out on a mission or having some other engagement for the day. There was a garden nearby, tended to by Warlocks who thought it would be a good idea to try and preserve whatever plant species they could find that had almost gone extinct since the Collapse. Occasionally, Hunters would leave seeds and (very rarely) entire plants which they’d had their Ghosts transmat back on their missions, much to the chagrin of whoever was on gardening duty that day. The garden was a team effort, at the very least, and something which had only started after the Red War.

As you wander into the garden, the sounds of birds chirping and bugs buzzing overwhelm your senses. The canopy of trees is a nice respite from the glaring sun, and the feeling of everything being _alive_ is so very different from the fighting on the Moon and Mercury and beyond that you’d become accustomed to.

You didn’t know what scared you more – those worlds without Light that you’d travelled to in the Sundial, or the constant feeling of loss as you traversed the Scarlet Keep. To say you were tired was an understatement, at this point.

You feel your Ghost leave to wander off on their own, curious to see what progress has been made since the last time you’d both had the chance to visit the garden. While you didn’t exactly have the time to have a proper green thumb, you both at least liked trying to catalogue what you’d find and also see what was working at what wasn’t. Someday, that knowledge may become very useful again.

Giving life was an opportunity a Guardian was offered so very little, compared to the daily routine of fighting and dying over and over. You wobble over to a large willow tree to sit down. A sigh leaves your lips as you lean backwards, your eyes watching the leaves sway in the breeze. Perhaps you didn’t realize how tired you were, or maybe you just simply didn’t care – _I can shirk my duties for one day without anyone noticing, right?_

The rustling of leaves is the last thing you hear before falling into a deep, but fitful sleep…

* * *

There are footsteps approaching you, and yet you cannot yet muster the energy to open your eyes. This was the first time you’d been able to relax in what felt like _years_ , and surely, you had nothing to worry about at the tower.

The steps grow louder, and you hear the telltale mechanical thunk of a Titan’s armor. While Titans may not bring seeds or tend to the garden themselves, they often would venture inwards to meditate and contemplate on those moments that being a bulwark was too hard. Figuring that whoever it was would just carry on by, you roll over a little, curling inwards on yourself in the afternoon shade.

The footsteps stop. A moment passes, and the voice that speaks suddenly makes you very, _very_ aware of your vulnerable position at the moment.

“Guardian? I overheard the report you gave to Zavala and Ikora, and I…” Saint-14 starts, seemingly at a loss for what to say next. “I understand that you are busy, and are very needed, but I am worried.” You hear the rustle of armor and a _thump_ as the legendary Titan sits next to you. His next words very soft.

“Are you all right? You have not visited, and instead it seems like you have been sent to every corner of the solar system and back within a small amount of time.” There is an undercurrent of _something_ in his mechanical voice that jolts you out of your stupor and you slowly crack open your eyes.

“First, I hear that you are helping Eris on the moon – which I take no issue with, mind you, the poor woman needs all the assistance she can get. But then I hear that Osiris has called you back to the Sundial, and that you are constantly fighting simulations.” Saint isn’t looking at you, and instead is staring at something he’s twirling in his hands – a pigeon feather, from what you can gather. As he continues to speak, you push yourself into an upright position.

“Then, I hear you are back in the Reef hunting Scorn, which I applaud! But then, without any delay it seems, you go and take down the last Wish dragon again and battle her curse. And while I am glad Ana is alive, it seems your assistance given to Rasputin for battling Hive is endless. The list goes on. You have done so many feats in such a small amount of time, my friend – it is hard to keep up, and I have done my very best to try.”

Saint paused at that moment, thinking of his next choice of words. You can’t help but stare at him, wide-eyed, in that moment. This hero, a legend in his own right, knew _that much_ about what you did for the Vanguard every week; it wasn’t even about the loot at that point, merely routine. It was unforgiving, tiring, and utterly draining, but nobody else seemed to be able to do it as well as you or your clan. What you never mentioned to anyone was the hard time your Fireteam gave you after each week, urging you to just take a chance to _breathe._

Lost in your thoughts, it takes you a moment to realize that Saint has turned and is staring back at you, and you fall backwards in surprise with a yelp. _Here it is_ , you think as you flush embarrassedly under his gaze, _this is where I die permanently. Death by praise from a legend and the surprise that followed._

Instead, Saint laughs, and moved to wrap an arm around you to prevent your escape. “You ARE awake! Are you alright? You looked so tired and sad, lying there, I was worried that something more sinister happened. I saw no wounds, but I had to be sure…” Maybe it was your sudden close proximity, or the mere shock of his apparent joy, but you squirm in his grip.

“I’m fine! I’m fine.” Your voice is rough from its brief disuse, and you paw at Saint’s arm to no avail. “I’m just tired, it’s okay. I’ll get back to my mission schedule soon enough, you know how bounties and the like are. Never ending, right?” You say with a hollow laugh.

You try to wriggle out of his arm, but instead Saint pulls you roughly against him. All you can hear is the mechanical whirr of his heart as you’re pressed against him, and your brain has turned to mush in an instant.

“You avoided my question,” he states in an almost sing-song voice, as he squeezes you gently. “You cannot run from all of your problems – Osiris has certainly done that enough, and I tire of those I care about refusing help when they need it most.” Saint states firmly, looking down at you. “Now, I will ask you again – are you alright? Earlier this morning, I heard you say that you could ‘still hear their screams’. Was that the Hive? Fallen Guardians? Or something else? And then I hear, from your _Fireteam_ no less, that you haven’t had the chance to take any break since what seems like your initial resurrection.” Saint shakes his head, and you can’t help but feel a bit sheepish, although you can’t quite figure out just _why_ you feel that way.

“I am going to keep talking, and you will listen,” Saint interrupts you the moment you take a breath to defend yourself. “You helped me become the Saint-14 you know today, all of those years ago. I was in a pit of despair, and then you arrived, rescuing me with a silver shotgun that resonated with both of our light. I could not – _would_ not be here today with out you, and it is my honour to be here today to see you in your own time.”

The praise is different somehow, coming from him – he, who has lived a thousand lifetimes, and has already seen some of the worst life as a Guardian has to offer. His praise leaves you numb, and you find yourself fighting tears as he continues on. Your arm that had been trying to free you fell limp against his bicep, and Saint took that moment to take your hand, gently.

“It’s not just me you’ve helped, you know. So many others,” Saint says in wonderment. “Week after week, you work tirelessly to bring whatever aid you can, oftentimes with what _I_ think isn’t enough recognition. Tell me; when was the last time you actually wanted to _do_ something?”

‘Saving you’ is what you _want_ to say, but the words are caught in your throat. Beyond that, aside from avenging Cayde, nothing else comes to mind. Saint-14 stares at you as you think for a few moments longer, then takes your apparent silence as an answer.

Saint rumbles a ‘Hmmm’ as he feels you shrink further into yourself, in what he assumes is shame or embarrassment. “It is nothing to be ashamed of, you know. I realize that great expectations were placed upon you early on, so it is only natural that you will come to be relied upon. I’m sure I do not need to remind you, but I speak from experience,” he says with a laugh.

“…If I don’t help, nobody else will,” you mumble, averting your gaze. Or rather, you don’t trust others to be _able_ to help. There was already enough Guardian blood on your hands from your failure to stop Ghaul fast enough, and you lived with that guilt daily. The spirits you found on the moon only added to that pile, and it was true – on the inside you were crumbling against the pressure.

“That is the exact attitude that sent me on a fool’s quest to find Osiris.” Quieter, Saint muses,” Although it _did_ lead me to you…”

You’re not quite sure what to say to that, and instead you opt to try and pick up the feather that Saint dropped in his rush to prevent you from leaving. You had no idea where your Ghost was at this moment, and were at least a little bit relieved that they wouldn’t accidentally cause anyone to find you in such a… compromising position.

With _Saint-14_ , no less. It would be a lie to say you didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on him, but to your judgement, he was far too out of your league to even try.

Slowly, you gaze back at him, and cannot hide the tired, haunted look in your eyes. Saint makes a decision, in that moment. “That’s it – I’m going to force Zavala to give you a day off, at the very least. Preferably, no more missions or bounties for at _least_ a week!”

“What?! No!” You start, finding Saint’s grip loosed on you enough to pull back wildly. “What about my Fireteam? Someone has to go on patrols with them, and what about all of the other errands that I need to do?! There’s no way that I’ll be allowed _that_ much time off. What am I even going to _do_ …? “

“I do not answer to this current Vanguard, and they cannot contest that I need help… Adjusting,” Saint says, with a sweeping gesture of his arm. “I can simply state that you are helping _me_ instead, and that will not be far from the truth. We are not that different, you and I.” The _how_ is left unsaid, the monument of both of your deeds over the years words enough. “The City has changed, and I need to, too. You, my friend, need a break from non-stop combat; and I can provide it for you.”

You’re not sure where this is going, but you’re too tired to deny any of it. You close your eyes, and wring your hands together.

Suddenly, you feel a cold, soft brush against your cheek – Saint’s hand, you realize. Were you _crying?_

“Honestly–” the words start spilling from your mouth before you can stop it, “please don’t tell anyone this, but…” It’s hard to verbalize, after so many years of non-stop action. Saint gestures at you encouragingly, clearly pleased to see a little progress.

He is now very close to you, but it’s a closeness, clear _solidity_ that you need. You inch a bit more towards him as you slowly admit, “I am very tired, yes. It just doesn’t stop, all the things that people need me to do. Sometimes I wonder if I will only get rest when I die permanently…” With a small shake of your head, you look him straight in the eye. “Alright, I accept your offer. Just… know as a warning it has probably been just as long for me as it has for you since I have done anything normal, so I can’t promise not to dumbass–”

Saint-14 cuts you off with a _whoop_ of joy, and bundles you into his arms all at once. “Oh, I am so glad you said yes! It has been so lonely, with Guardian after Guardian asking me for advice and everything – oh, I am squeezing you in my excitement.” You let out a wheeze as he releases you slightly, though the Titan still holds you quite tightly.

“Your first order from me, then, is to rest and relax as you were before. There will be more time to talk about your troubles with me later, but sometimes, silence is just as good a medicine.”

Hesitantly, you lean your head into his chest, then slowly curl up more onto his side. Saint’s arm steadies you as you find a comfortable spot, and he lets out an appreciative hum as you finally settle.

You lay there in his arms for hours, gazing up at the sky until the stars rose in the night. Your Ghost finds you not long after you both fall asleep, and wordlessly rests themselves in between you to find in the morning.

_Maybe, just this moment, everything will be okay._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and then they were roommates
> 
> (in which Saint-14 tries to make sure one stubborn guardian follows his orders to take care of themself for real)

Saint-14 is at your apartment door, purple duffel bag in one hand and shotgun in the other. He shifts from foot to foot, nervously – was doing this too early, too much? You had both woken up late in the previous night, and you returned to your apartment in such a tired daze he sincerely doubted you would remember that short span of time. He was serious in his orders to you from before, though, and wanted to prove it; all that remained to be seen is if Saint would make a good temporary roommate.

Taking a deep breath, he knocks on your door as gently as he can. More likely than not you were still asleep, but your Ghost would at least be able to help him out. Or so he hoped.

Saint hears a quiet whirr as an electric lock is opened, and your Ghost phases through your door. They let out a surprised noise as they notice Saint standing there, and Saint can almost see them connecting the dots in real-time.

“You know, they told me what happened while I was gone, and were you not standing there looking like a lost puppy I wouldn’t have believed it,” Ghost says after a moment. “While you’re not exactly up and vanishing again, won’t other Guardians be looking for you in the Hangar? What about the Vanguard? Or Osiris, for that matter?”

“Do not worry! I have yelled at Zavala and Ikora both to give the Guardian a break,” Saint says proudly.

“ _Yelled?_ ”

“What! Do not tell me they do not deserve it. Your Guardian was about ready to drop from exhaustion, no?” There is a brief silence, and your Ghost does not deny it. “Then I was justified. Osiris knows that if he wishes to take any issue up with me, he is going to have to confront me himself if he wants something done. I may be patient, but about this? I will not budge.”

“As for the other Guardians… Let them think what they want. If they have any issue with me or the Guardian taking a break, then they can fight me in the Crucible. I’m sure Shaxx would enjoy commentating on it,” Saint says with a laugh.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you in, yeah? We have slippers for guests in the closet, but it’s not often people come to say hi or stay for long, so... They may be a bit dusty.”

Saint enters your apartment, which from what he can tell from your entryway, consists of a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom and small living room.

There are weapons hanging on display on your wall, in what he assumes is a way for you to store your armory to avoid losing it again. It also could be so your Ghost can easily transmat whatever you need at any moment – he would have to ask. Saint’s eyes are immediately caught on a strange looking longbow, first, with an image carved of a woman on its side. His own Ghost tags it as being named the ‘Wish-Ender’, and his attention is soon caught again just as quickly by a fearsome looking sniper rifle above it.

“What is that?” Saint asks quietly, gesturing at the gun; the weapon seems to purr at his approach, and he can’t help but feel a little unsettled.

“That is the Whisper of the Worm,” your Ghost responds, and after a moment does the Ghost equivalent of shaking their head. “My Guardian received it after a series of events following them killing Xol, the Will of Thousands. I… Wouldn’t touch it, if I were you. That gun makes me nervous every time my Guardian has to use it.”

Saint nods and takes a step back. There are a few handguns (more than one for certain with illegal modifications, judging by the one labelled ‘Crimson’), swords and other weapons on display, all ones Saint looks forward to asking you the story behind. Just a bit farther and he can see the Guardian’s Perfect Paradox leaning up against their bed, and your own unconscious form. Saint stops himself from reaching out and touching you with how peaceful you looked at that moment.

“Ah, I’ll wake them up. One moment.” Your Ghost floats on over to your sleeping form, before dropping down to gently nudge your cheek.

Saint leans his own Perfect Paradox against the nearby wall as your Ghost says (in a very, impressively loud voice) “Eyes up, Guardian! You have a visitor.”

You let out a small groan, and Saint suddenly feels like he is intruding on a private moment. He stares at his feet instead and hears the rustling of a thick comforter and pillows.

“Um… Ghost? Am I dreaming still?”

Saint stifles a laugh as you all but fall out of bed in surprise – slayer of gods, apparently at a loss for words. Your Ghost shares in his amusement, and they bump you with their shell ever so gently.

“Okay, so, I may have given you a hard time about me thinking you getting overworked finally got to your tired brain, but–”

“Ghost.”

“I heard knocking this morning and thought it was kind of weird since we don’t often get visitors aside from your clanmates or people asking you for too much help, so I open the door and–”

“ _Ghost_.”

“Saint is waiting there, so I let him in, and he said he wants to make sure you take your time off so don’t you dare dismiss my worries again–”

“ _GHOST_!”

Your Ghost stops, freezing in the air, sheepishly. “Sorry, I was rambling again, wasn’t I?”

You let out a sigh, and Saint feels a bit bad for the tiny little thing; they want the same thing as him, after all.

“To answer your earlier question, no, you are not dreaming,” Saint starts, then pauses at your bewildered expression. “I said you were ordered to relax this week, were you not? Well. I am here to make sure my orders are followed.” He hefts his duffel bag, hesitantly. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

Truth be told, Saint hadn’t thought he would get this far, especially given how stubborn he knows you have been in the past. The fact your Ghost let him in at _all_ told him a lot.

You white-knuckled the edge of your bedsheets, in what Saint guessed was nervousness. “Um… is this even proper? Won’t, uh, Ikora and Zavala question why you’ve suddenly vanished from your ship in the Hangar? What about all the Guardians looking for you?” You look away, and mumble so quietly Saint doubts he was meant to hear, “…what makes me so worth all this trouble? I don’t…”

Saint spent what felt like thousands of years chasing after your memory. He was all but prepared for this type of argument. This was finally his chance to spend some time with you! And hopefully help where he could. He would _not_ blow this.

“Guardian. I chased after Osiris for years, as you know. All I want is for you to give me the chance to help you. I won’t have to chase after you, too. Right?” Saint says hesitantly, and while he may still have his helm on, his quiet tone of voice is enough to make you pause and stare.

“Everyone that I care about has only grown farther away in the time that I was lost. My Father is gone, and Osiris barricades himself in the Sundial to avoid a much-needed conversation. Everyone else has changed – except for you. You are a constant, the same as when I first saw you in my lost colony.”

It was time for Saint’s gambit, then. “How about let’s start with this – tell me about something you haven’t mentioned to anyone else about what’s happened on the Moon, and I will share something with you in turn. If you find that it helps, I will stay for the week and we can slowly work through things together. If it makes it worse? I will leave, and you can return to your business.” Saint waits, eager, oh so _dearly_ hoping to hear some sort of agreement.

There is a long stretch where you are silent, save for the sound of your Ghost whirring silently overhead, out of sight.

“It’s not easy to talk about,” you admit quietly, and Saint feels a wave of relief. “I’m, um, not sure where to start, even.”

“Well… You _have_ been helping Eris, have you not? Perhaps tell me something from then, or that you both discovered?”

You think for a moment and seem to come to a decision. “So, um. Eris’s old Fireteam. You know that the Hive likes to, uh, experiment, right?” He nods, and you take a deep breath. “Well… I’m sure you’ve heard of Toland somehow, and he was there helping on the Moon, and his whole exile and everything and… Um, he may not have a physical form… And he’s not the only one who got fucked up in that sort of way.” Saint can see that telling this is hard for you, especially compared to your normally calm, commanding aura; vulnerability is never something to be ashamed of, though, and he has reason to believe your Ghost is the only one who knows your true worries.

“Did you know what the Hive did to Omar Agah?” A short pause, and you start speaking again before Saint even has the chance to respond. Your words are fast, worried and pained. “He is a weapon, now; after his soul was split. I believe you saw it when you entered –” You gesture with a hand to a machine gun on the wall, “the Xenophage.”

Saint can sense light coming from the weapon, even though it is faint. It seemed… Small, and contained. He nods.

“That is one of many things I found while on the moon, while learning about some of the horrible experiments that have been done to Guardians. When I first dove into the Hellmouth, I never… I never thought I would see things as horrible as this. They separated his light from his body, but, well, the Hive fucked up, badly. They took his soul along with his Light – he’s still alive, and he’s very adamant about wanting revenge. While he may no longer be human, I…” The next words you speak are spoken haltingly, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head.

Saint does not care – he is patient, and he is ready to wait all the time in the world if it meant helping you.

“It’s… These things and more, that are part of the reason why I just can’t bring myself to stop. Especially since in this case, _I_ was the one to finally kill Crota. There are so, _so many_ dead Guardians out there that could have been saved, could have been spared such horrible fates – and I, being one of the few capable of it… I guess, I _guess_ I feel responsible. If that makes sense?”

You shake your head, and as he follows your gaze, he sees you staring at your Perfect Paradox. “You were the first, really, that I’ve managed to save in a way that hasn’t left me devastated over what consequences there might be; which, I suppose is ironic considering that Mercury is in such a temporal tizzy at the moment.”

“So… You’re staying? At least for a little while?” Saint nods. He hopes he doesn’t appear as excited as he is on the inside and is glad that he kept on the helmet. “I’ll, um. Grab one of the extra futons so you can put your stuff on it, then I guess I can set you up in the living room…”

You get up off of the bed, finally. Your first step is a bit wobbly, and you soon gain confidence in your stride as you round the corner to find wherever your Ghost was hiding to ask for help. The last he sees of you before you start bickering with your Ghost again is _so very vulnerable_ , an almost tearful smile sent in his direction.

Saint has waited years to find you again, and this is the first he has seen you truly smile. Not faked for meetings and dealings, but emotional, _invested._ While he may have no flesh and blood heart, he was certain if he did it would have skipped a beat. With you, he feels young again, and the weight of the world seems to have left you both for at least a moment. He knows he is loud, enthusiastic, and sometimes overwhelming, but he is going to enjoy spending all the time he can with you as much as possible.

At least for now, until duty calls... He will hold you close, in the hopes you’ll remain a constant after waiting years to see you and the City he knew awaited in the future. He’s waited this long to see you – he can certainly help you through your struggles in the now.

He is here due to you giving him a chance, and he is here to stay with you, so long as you’ll have him.

"You will keep that promise, won't you?" Saint hears you call from the other room. "Go on. Tell me a story as I get you set up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god they were roommates.
> 
> edit: I didn't realize that editing the chapter would make it get updated a g a i n but yeah I added a teeny bit more, MY BAD I'm still fairly new to Ao3
> 
> Also, I had a stupid thought that pretty much everything Saint owns is probably purple. Bedsheets? Purple. Decorations and flowers? purple. Toothbrush (even though he doesn't have teeth?) purple. I realize I might be making Saint into like, the Destiny equivalent of Haurchefant but I have no regrets whatsoever and will go down with that statement
> 
> (Also updated the tags a bit, I got carried away and this is now an actual story oops but I may throw in some AUs and etc now and then?) I think I'm finally done setting stuff up now so expect more feels and hi-jinks soon TM
> 
> one last note, fun fact: there's an actual model of the hive bug that Omar's now inside of, and it's inside the gun and you can see it a bit when you reload it! iirc someone found what it looks like outside the gun too and my goodness, poor dude
> 
> next chapter: saint 14 storytime and more


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saint-14 tells a story, and him and the Guardian pay Shaxx a visit.

_Holy shit, by the Traveler – I can’t believe this is happening._

Your Ghost is laughing at your internal distress, but you can at least sense a tiny amount of sympathy through your link. Saint is talking to you, and you’re only half aware of your responses in your tired, worried daze.

_WHY did you have to let him in?_ You think to your Ghost, panic rising by the minute. _If you wanted me to take a break that badly, you didn’t need to get SAINT-14 to come knocking at my apartment door!_

_> >He could’ve broken down the door easily if he wanted to, you know. Whenever Saint puts his mind to something, he does it,<< _Amused as your Ghost is, they at least make an attempt to help you calm down before you do something embarrassing. _> >Come on, give him a chance. Listen to what he has to say. Please?<<_

_Fine…_ You concede, only to get caught up in conversation once more. When you rise to go get Saint some better accommodations rather than sleeping on the couch (‘ _Imagine the scandal’,_ you almost want to say), you realize all at once that you had become lost in your memories and that Saint hadn’t said his piece. _There’s my distraction from the situation at hand, I guess. Yeah, I rescued him, but do I even know him that well, other than the legends…?_

Ghost transmats the spare futon from your storage fairly quickly, _far_ too quickly than you’re ready, and you’re about to pick it up when you feel

someone

at your back.

“Here, let me help! Then we can talk afterwards,” Saint says cheerfully, oblivious to the fact that in the span of 5 seconds he’d set your face on fire.

“A-a-alright,” you stutter out, trying to cover up just how startled you felt as you hefted up one end of the futon. “I think there’s a spot we can put this near the couch...? If you don’t mind the wall of weapons above. I know a few of them are, uh. Technically illegal. Among things.”

“As far as I am concerned, I have seen nothing,” Saint says as he goes to grab the other end. “Though I do have questions about how you acquired a few of them, so expect that later.”

“That’s fair,” you concede, grateful that he was no longer in such close proximity. “Alright, careful not to knock your armor into the wall. I’ve already had to pay tons of glimmer in drywall repairs as it stands.”

Saint laughs, and your earlier worry over the situation slowly dissipates at the sound of his voice. There was something about it, about _him_ , that was so warm and welcoming. Idly, you wonder what the Speaker would think of your current situation were he still alive to see it. Both you and everyone else had idolized Saint for so long, and here he was. He was kind, courteous, and everything you could hope he would be. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a _little_ bit infatuated, and him moving in at least for a short while would be a challenge.

But then again… Maybe him staying with you for a bit wouldn’t be so bad, if it brought all that laughter and comfort you had got from him previously in the Hangar, too.

Your Ghost chooses that moment to chime in, _> >While the Moon may be haunted, your love life doesn’t have to be. Know that I’ll be with you every step of the way!<<_

_Don’t even **think** about mentioning this to Geppetto or any other Ghost,_ you warn them silently. _Also, I think that’s probably one of the worst pick-up lines I’ve ever heard._

The two of you move the bed easily, and Saint goes to unpack the bag he brought with him as well as Geppetto was transmatting with him.

You decide it is best at least for the moment to stay out of the way, so you sit down on the couch nearby. There are a few minutes where you’re trying your very best not to watch Saint setting up his sheets and weapon stands. While he does not acknowledge it, you’re sure Saint knows that you’re staring.

“Is _everything_ you own purple?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself.

“Does every good weapon _you_ own have some sort of illegal modification?”

“That’s completely different and you know it.”

_> >Nice job.<<_

_Unless you wanna help me here, do shut up, please._

“While I was out on a mission, once, I encountered a very curious Ghost,” Saint says suddenly, walking over to where you are on the couch. He sits on the other end, and you are grateful you don’t have to worry again at least for the moment about propriety. It was already hard to remain calm around him as it was. Whenever he was near, even close, it just felt… _right._ Calming, reassuring. You weren’t ready to unpack that, yet.

“They asked me many questions, and as with most Ghosts without a Guardian, seemed to be in awe of me and Geppetto. But there was one thing different about them, something _more._ I realize at that time, my legend was growing at a rapid pace. I had just come off of another mission against the Fallen, and your Ghost witnessed my deeds firsthand. They told me that they wanted their Guardian to be as strong as me, and that they hoped that they would meet me again with them someday.” 

“I, of course, did not recognize it then, but that Ghost would turn out to become _your_ Ghost.”

_What?_

“Time works in interesting ways, it seems,” Saint finishes with a laugh. “Your own story, at this point, I would argue has _far_ surpassed mine.”

“Ghost has mentioned to me before that you two met, but I never imagined that they were so…” You shake your head, and feel your Ghost mentally bristle in defense. _Take that._ “Ah, well. Glad neither of us disappointed you, at least?” You say, and both laugh.

Your tone quickly takes a serious turn, however, as you stare over at Saint’s now stored Perfect Paradox. “When Ghost told me initially, it was when I was looking for you in the first place. Before… Before I found your body, before I rescued you.” You say in a whisper. “And I found Perfect Paradox. Saint, you have no idea. The Vex – they made a _monument_ to you, made out of all of the Vex that you’d slain in your search. Your light, it returned to your body after we freed it, but you were already long dead…” You shake your head. “It just _hung_ there, floating over you. Like a halo. I–“

Saint tries to interject, likely to reassure you. “Guardian…–”

“You don’t understand,” you cut in abruptly, and wring your hands once more. “Saint. I found your _body._ I only found Geppetto when I was trying to configure the Sundial. I know you have encountered many permanently dead Guardians over the years, as have I, especially in the wake of the Red War. This, I think, was _far_ worse than anything I’d ever seen. Shit, Saint.” You shake your head. “That Vex mind that drained the light from you? It was _guarding_ you. I’ve never seen anything like it.” You gaze over to him, expression serious enough that Saint freezes. “In the end, it seems, they learned to respect you. I just wish it didn’t take breaking the timeline to save you…”

Instead of a verbal response, you hear the shifting of fabric – and then arms around you, holding you, _hugging_ you.

You weren’t used to being hugged, never mind held. Were you not already feeling incredibly bad (and direly needing the support), you likely would have pushed him off. The life of a Guardian was lonely, and the only real contact you’ve ever had was with you hugging your Ghost to yourself in the aftermath of losing your light to Ghaul. Sure, it wasn’t safe _at all_ , but it brought comfort you had needed in those dark times.

Now, Saint was holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world; tight, and close, and a lot softer to the touch in his armor than you’d have expected. You’re slow to hug him back, having taken you a moment to realize just what it was, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. _Just a hug, giving comfort. Nothing to be scared of. Not like I haven't gotten a hug other than Ghost since my actual death... right?_

“I’m sorry,” you say at once, voice muffled. “I’m so, _so_ sorry. I certainly killed _that_ storytime rather quickly, I guess, huh?”

“I will say this as many times I need to, but we do not lead easy lives, Guardian,” Saint says simply in response. His voice rumbles against the top of your head, where you assume the mouth of his helmet rests. “There is no shame in sharing that which pains us – oftentimes, it makes you feel better. It upsets me that you keep apologizing, when you have done nothing wrong. Plus, we are already making progress! It is not healthy to bottle in your feelings and your worries. I am glad you are willing to share your experiences with me, _especially_ if it involves me.”

Saint releases you after another moment, and you pull back onto your knees to squint at him.

“You know, that _does_ make me realize now that I’ve technically seen your face.” You pause. Your mouth moved far faster than your mind could react to, and you instantly regret it. “-Although, it was partially destroyed, but…”

Saint responds in an instant by a small _click_ as he unclips his helm. He lifts it over his head, and you can’t help but gape. Saint bursts out laughing.

“If you wanted to see my face _that badly_ , I am more than happy to oblige. A precious few have seen me without that helm, but this at least helps if I ever want to try and go incognito in public. Which we _will_ be doing together, so better now than later that you see me. Shaxx will never do that as easily, though.”

Saint pauses, considering, likely talking to Geppetto. He claps, and stands swiftly. “Actually, we can do that now. If you are okay with it,” he adds as an afterthought. You nod, and go to stand.

“Give me one moment to switch into something less conspicuous, and let us go visit Shaxx!”

* * *

“I really don’t know why you went to so much effort to hide… You know that I’m gonna get recognized too no matter what, right?” You say, and Saint wants to smack himself.

_I am an idiot._ _Well, at least I won’t be the one being accosted if at all_ , he thinks to Geppetto quietly _. Talking to people is definitely harder than I remember, and I’ve caused them distress multiple times already. And now this._ _Oops. I've idolized them for so long, and now that I have this chance... Geppetto, I'm going to need your help._

“It’s alright, though,” you say brightly, and Saint can tell you’re already preparing a mask for the public to hide the vulnerability he’d seen moments before. At least with his helmet, he’s able to easily hide it, but for the Guardian… “I’m used to it. You can’t exactly go killing a Worm God without someone noticing.”

“Yes, but it does not mean that it is right,” Saint says, and walks up next to you. He is wearing a different set of armor, still purple, but is without his helmet and could be any other Exo unless he was overheard. He offers you an arm. “May I?”

Gingerly taking his arm, you smile up at him, as Geppetto cheers from the recesses of his mind. “Thank you,” you say. “Alright, let’s go. Do you want to take the main path, or wanna join me in some parkour to avoid others? I mean, some Hunters go up there too, but that’s normal.”

“Is the parkour where I followed you?”

You snap a finger, and point at him. “Ah, so there _was_ someone calling me when I left! I could’ve sworn someone was following me too, but I was so out of it I just wanted to get out of there. Yes, it is.”

“Then let’s do that, then. Much of the City I still do not know, and with the old Tower still being repaired, any shortcuts you can show me will be helpful if I ever _do_ go around in my armor.”

The two of you easy leap over some of the rubble and hidden alleyways, and the few other Guardians or workers that you find pay little attention to you as you go. When you arrive in the main plaza, you slow down, and weave your way through crowds of Fireteams and workers alike to head over to Shaxx’s station. Shaxx notices the two of you almost immediately, and Saint was curious to what his reaction was under that helmet.

“Ahhh, Saint!” Shaxx nods at him, eyeing his disguise. “Smart. And the Young Wolf!” He slaps you on the shoulder, hard. “After that jaunt at Twilight Gap with Osiris, I thought you two would leave me alone or be too busy otherwise. Alas, no rest for me today, I’m afraid. Saint, I should’ve known that once you had found your oh so famous Guardian, you’d latch onto to them.”

“…Shaxx, Saladin always says in the Iron Banner that ‘It’s not over until Shaxx sings, and he’s very shy’. And then you sang. For Saint.” Saint has to stop himself from bursting out laughing, with how bluntly you ask. He’d forgotten that you had overheard. “Is this a bad omen, or what? Should I be worried about anything?”

Shaxx turns to Saint, then, and gives him what he knows is a _Look_ through his helmet. Saint raises his arms in a placating gesture.

“I’m not going to dignify that question with a proper response.”

Saint takes that moment to interject, and passes a bundle of something from his pocket into your hands. “Shaxx. Do you keep track of what weapons that are used in the Crucible? Because looking at some of the ones the Young Wolf has, doesn’t it ever seem unfair to Kinderguardians? I would expect such things in the Iron Banner, but not the Crucible. Are there no regulations, or what?”

You catch on (even as Saint questions your choice in weapons quite loudly), and discreetly sneak by the two Titans and back into the plaza in search of what Saint needed as he continued to talk to Shaxx. You both had discussed this previously in the Hangar, and now was the perfect chance.

You return and quickly sneak up behind Shaxx as Saint is weaving a tale of his search in the Infinite Forest and what weapon you had used to rescue him, and place the Item down as gently and fast as you can.

(‘Do not hold bird like a gun. Be gentle. Do not squeeze.’)

A single pigeon now perches on Shaxx’s horn, munching on seeds stuck to it by a quick slap of peanut butter. While Saint could have easily orchestrated something similar on his own, you and him worked quite well as a team in battle; and, quite well with pranks too, it seems.

“I am going to run now.” You say wisely, but not before snapping a quick picture from the looks of your Ghost being at your shoulder in a literal flash. “I’ll see you in the Crucible, Shaxx! I’m gonna go send this to Saladin.” And with that, you sprint like a bat out of hell over the barriers, laughing loud enough to cause even Zavala in the distance to stop his conversation and stare.

“…Quite the Guardian, right?” Saint doesn’t wait for a response. “ _That_ is my cue to run as well.”

Saint sprints after you to the sounds of Shaxx yelling at Arcite to help him remove the bird, damnit. The two of you would pay for that, eventually. To him, just seeing how hard you’d laughed made any consequence worth it. He would have to plan more of this for the future.

“Geppetto, open a line with the Guardian. I think we were successful in getting them not to work, at least with this, but I want to do something _they_ want to do next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this time it doesn't quadruple update (I'm learning the Ao3 system, I promise)
> 
> SO HOW BOUT THAT BASTION QUEST? I won't say anything beyond that due to spoilers but oh my god. I'm very excited to see where the story goes
> 
> Also! Please let me know if there's anyone else you want the Guardian and Saint to run into as a duo (or give a stern talking-to), I have a few more planned but I'm always open to more suggestions :3c I hope the POV switching is working so far, I want to try and flip between the two so yall can get a picture of what's going on in the Guardian and Saint's heads as this story goes on. If anything doesn't make sense, or if you spot any errors anywhere, lemme know.
> 
> my main focus for the moment is building their relationship as naturally as I can, especially given the circumstances. Saint idolizes the Guardian as much as they idolize him, so there's going to probably be a lot more mutual pining. I'm sorry.   
> Saint's distraction @ shaxx is brought to you by me getting absolutely melted in my first month playing by the OEM wombo combo. I am still very much a kinderguardian, and there's a lot I do and don't know, so I get melted pretty hard whenever I do things. :")
> 
> next up: exploring the tower, conspiring Ghosts


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saint and the Guardian visit the City.

Geppetto: Hello Ghost, this is Geppetto, Saint-14’s Ghost.

Ghost: Hello, Geppetto.

Geppetto: I am opening this comm channel with you for the future, and also to better co-ordinate as our Guardians will be spending more time together.

Ghost: You know, I was considering doing that myself. Saint seems very excited about helping, as you’ve probably noticed. My Guardian is likely just as nervous about it. They are very excited as well, but…

Geppetto: Is there something that I should be worried about? It seems like things have been going well, no?

Ghost: …They made me swear not to say anything, but they keep running around like a headless chicken otherwise. Geppetto – how does Saint feel about my Guardian? Truly.

Geppetto: I am not sure I understand your question. Surely you have noticed how much Saint admires them, and idolizes every single thing that they do.

Ghost: Oh, I know. But how does he _feel_ about them?

Geppetto: …

_Oh._

Ghost: Do you understand my worry, now? They both could get in so much trouble, from the Vanguard, from the _Consensus_ , if this is pursued any further–

Geppetto: And why shouldn’t it be?

Ghost: Wh– it’s mutual?

Geppetto: It appears so.

Ghost: … That changes things, then.

Geppetto: Saint spent so long working to see them again. I doubt either of you two could do anything to ruin it for him at this point, at least from their end. The city can, pardon my language, kiss both of their asses. They’ve done enough combined to deserve being happy together.

Ghost: How close is he to saying anything? My Guardian’s still… working on it, from what we’ve discussed together.

Geppetto: I think at this point it depends on what your Guardian wants. He doesn’t want to do anything to harm them; he cares quite a lot. He won’t pursue anything until they are ready, at least from what I can tell from his thoughts.

Ghost: Hmm… In your experience, how badly do you think the Vanguard and others would react to it, in reality? If we can convince them of the merits. I hate having to say that – it sounds so disconnected. But I don’t think anyone wants another case of a failed attempt at vengeance like Eriana-3 and the fate of her fireteam…

Geppetto: I think Ikora would be supportive – Zavala might be an issue. Saladin and Shaxx… It depends on how much they like your Guardian, as I do not know their opinions of them. Osiris could go either way. The Consensus might try and use it to their advantage, and/or capitalize the hell out of it. It could cause some rifts within groups of Guardians themselves, depending if people see a relationship as favouritism or inappropriate, even with all of your Guardian’s accomplishments.

Ghost: And the public as a whole?

Geppetto: They’d probably love it. Two of the city’s greatest heroes, travelling through time to rescue each other, and _succeeding_? It’s something straight out of a novel.

Ghost: It _would_ be nice to give some good news to everyone besides a victory in battle with heavy losses, for once.

Geppetto: Then how do we want to coordinate this…?

* * *

After making your escape, you’d managed to get all the way to the Hangar before you stopped. While your Ghost was strangely silent at the moment, you were grateful – you didn’t even want to _begin_ to think about how much of an ass-kicking you’d get from Shaxx the moment you went back into the Crucible.

You hear a cluck by your feet, and find Colonel pecking at your shoes. Cayde’s old spot wasn’t too far, but… it still hurt, to see that space so empty. Once so full of life, now a spot of mourning. Wildly contrasted by the bright banners near Saint’s ship, if you were being honest.

Picking up the chicken, you walk back over to Cayde’s old area and set the bird down on one of the tables. You hear the thumping of metal behind you, and turn around just in time to see Saint slow down from a sprint.

“Guardian! – Ah, is this not…?”

You nod, and stroke Colonel’s feathers with a finger. “Y’know, with the amount of people that stepped in to take care of her with Cayde being gone, she’s gonna be one of the most pampered birds to have ever lived.” You’re avoiding the obvious subject, yes, but could Saint blame you? It was still painful to talk about, even now. While part of you was tempted to ask Osiris if the Sundial would work again with Cayde, saving _two_ lives might be pushing it.

Saint approaches you, and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “It was not your fault,” he reminds you gently. “I do not think Cayde would want you dwelling on it any more than you have. You have already taken you vengeance, have you not? Take a moment to breathe, to mourn. Remember the good – it is what I would have wanted, had you not saved me.”

Maybe Saint doesn’t realize the weight of such a statement, but you certainly do. It snaps you out of your daze, and you push yourself off of the countertop.

“Y’know, Cayde always loved to go into the city and go to some of the ramen shops.” What you leave unsaid is the fact that you more or less _hadn’t been down to the city_ since Cayde’s death, as you’d never really had a reason, nor the time for it. Here it was;

“Would… Would you like to go with me?”

Saint’s jaw visibly drops for a moment. You worry for a moment you’d made a mistake, misread him entirely, and then,

“OF COURSE!”

* * *

Saint is beyond excited – you had seemed so nervous when asking, he was a little worried that he may have overdone it. Geppetto, in his mind, seemed pleased as well; while he was tempted to ask specifically why, he was glad that his Ghost approved of the idea at the very least.

It had been a long time since you had gone down to the city proper, from what he gathered. He and you would make quite a pair – a man displaced by time itself, and a Guardian with almost no time at all. He was also quite flattered at the fact you’d remembered his remark about the food being significantly better than his own time. This was a great opportunity to get to know more about you, personally.

He absolutely could not mess this up.

There was a shuttle the two of you had taken down from the Tower, and you now both stood in one of the courtyards nearby deciding on transportation. Saint suggested using a taxi, at first, but you disagreed as you were more than likely going to get recognized.

“Why not use our sparrows?” you suggest, tapping a finger on your chin.

“Hmmm…” Summoning Geppetto, Saint pulled his sparrow out – and frowned as he realized something. “Er, Guardian… I do not know the roads, these days. I remember when the city was a collection of tents, then of small buildings, but… I more likely than not will get lost if I try to follow you on my own.”

You blink at him, slowly, as you catch his meaning. You tilt your head to the side, listening to what most likely was your own Ghost, and pull them out in a swift movement. “Let’s see…”

In a flash of light, a large sparrow appears in front of you both. You hesitate a moment, as your Ghost gently nudges your shoulder – whatever you two had discussed, albeit brief, seemed to worry you. Perhaps he would bring it up later…

“Um, Saint… I think this sparrow is large enough for both of us to ride on, if you want? I’d feel awful if you got lost on your own trying to follow me, so…”

 _Ah._ Well, he can see how that would be awkward to ask, no less suggest. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

“If you are comfortable with it, yes. I do not want to impose.”

You hesitate another moment, and climb on your sparrow and beckon Saint over with an arm. Dismissing his, he walks over, and oh-so-carefully seats himself behind you.

“You can put your hands on my hips, it’s okay. I know we’re both immortal, but I’m not actually the best driver. My fireteam can attest to that, especially since literally last week I drove my sparrow right into a Vex Hydra after flipping down a cliff and it blew up…” You trail off, and rub your neck. “Basically, I don’t want to be responsible for a public incident in which we both break our necks and require a revive. That’d be more than embarrassing.”

While you can’t see him exactly, Saint nods regardless in understanding. “If you’re alright with it.” He places his hands gently at your hips, and you freeze for a moment – Saint wonders when it is the last time that you had done anything like this. Going out into the city, relaxing, or just having a nice time.

“O-okay. You good to go?” You question.

“Yes. I’m sure your driving is not any worse than mine.”

The two of you take off, and true to your word, more than once were your turns a _little_ too sharp. Had he not been holding onto you, he definitely would’ve flipped off. Geppetto, in his mind, is laughing at him.

_Just be on standby for a rez. I have faith in them, but they seem to be a speed demon…_

_> >You signed up for this,<< _Geppetto reminds him in kind. _> >Perhaps you’ll take them for driving training as your next outing.<<_

Saint doesn’t respond, but instead chooses to believe that your speed instead belies your overall nervousness, rushing to try and get there as to not be spotted. He has done the same – he has not gone out without his helmet often, so he himself has been having to rush from place to place. It is not the worst thing, to be questioned by the average citizen, but when you’re someone as busy as you… It could be a problem.

You slow down gradually, and pull to a stop in front of a two-story brick building. The sign outside had bullet holes in it, and Saint could only guess as to where it was from.

“We’re here!” You say brightly, and Saint lets go so you can dismount. He slides off of your sparrow, and watches it dissipate as you continue to speak. “The owner knows me, but I always have to fight with him to not give me any discounts. _Please_ don’t tip him off as to who you are, or it’ll be twice as hard. I _hate_ getting special treatment.” _Sometimes I just want things to be normal_.

You two enter the restaurant, and the owner spots you in record time. He ushers you both into one of the corner tables, as you banter back and forth with him about _how is your husband lately_ and _how are your kids doing in school?_ It was so normal, so _endearing_ , and Saint was glad to hear it compared to your nervousness moments before.

The owner passes Saint an order with a wink, and mutters something about the Guardian having ‘good taste in Exo’. Saint goes slack-jawed, and you cover your mouth with a hand to muffle a choking noise.

Thankfully, you are saved by a waiter appearing rather quickly, and you both take your orders. You and Saint chat in the meantime, about how you’d been invited to the restaurant in the first place; Cayde had lost a bet over who had better aim, and so he’d treated you to the restaurant. Soon enough, your food comes, and while Saint doesn’t want the conversation to end, he digs into his good with gusto.

There is a calm silence as you both eat. The domesticity, _normalcy_ of the situation is not lost on either of you.

Unfortunately for you and Saint both, that peace would not last.

“I heard that Guardian went and rescued Saint-14 from the Infinite Forest.” You both freeze as a man speaks to a small group of people, a few tables away. Gossip was nothing uncommon – you were faced away from the group, so it was unlikely they actually _saw_ you. Saint sets down his chopsticks to listen proper. Judging by the way you lower yours, too, you want to hear whatever the man was about to say as well.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” A woman responds, head resting on her chin. “Though, then again, _everything_ that Guardian does seems to be dangerous. Not that I’m saying that any other Guardian’s life isn’t difficult, but–” she taps a finger on her glass. “That one especially seems to like getting into trouble. Not that I’m complaining. We could use more Guardians like Saint – so willing to put their life on the line, not endanger others.”

“Weren’t they on the Moon pretty recently, too?” A few murmurs in assent. The man continues. “Hmph. You’d think that the Vanguard would be keeping them busy enough that they wouldn’t be able to cause any more problems for the rest of us.”

“You can say that twice,” says another at the table – an Awoken, judging by their glowing eyes. “I have so many friends and family who are still trapped in the Dreaming City. I only fled here because I was forced, due to that Guardian’s actions. Do they _know_ how many have died, because of them?”

Saint looks back at you, only to see you gazing at your food with a vacant expression. Your hands were balled into fists.

Saint was starting to worry.

“Oh, that’s right – weren’t they poking around and found the Black Armory, too?” Another woman this time, from a table next to the others, and from far away Saint can see the anger on her face. “Right in our city! It could have been dangerous, had they not been able to kill Insurrection Prime in time. If they hadn’t gone poking around in the first place, they wouldn’t have made it into the City at all.”

Saint knows the Fallen – knows that is not true in the slightest. You should, too. Your expression told Saint otherwise.

It was like a slow nightmare; more and more, people joined in with their accusations.

How it was your fault, that Cayde died.

How it was your fault, that so many Guardians were still dying to an angered Hive.

How it was your fault, that their husband, their son, their daughter, their wife, _entire families_ didn’t escape and survive in the Red War.

You were shaking, now. He felt sick. You looked like you were about to faint.

That was it – Saint had enough.

* * *

The murmurs of the crowd soon reached a fever pitch, and you all but squeeze your eyes shut. _Make it stop PLEASE make it st–_

“Please. Excuse us.”

Saint grabs your hand and pushes his way through the crowd and out the exit, looking back every few seconds with a mix of expressions you found hard to pinpoint with how quickly it seemed to shift. Angry, sad, disappointed… 

You stop abruptly, and are jolted a bit as you realize just how fast you both had been moving. You were both far away from the shop, now – but you recognized where you were.

You point upwards, your hand shaking. Saint is silent.

“When I lost my light, I… I fell from a very tall height. Far close to the Traveler than you think, as it was aboard one of the Cabal ships… I got kicked off of it by Dominus Ghaul himself,” you laugh bitterly. “Though maybe I should just emulate Cayde and call him Gary, as it’s what he deserves. I… I landed not far from here. I made a crater.”

“I thought I was going to die,” you say weakly, and Saint’s grip on your other hand tightens. “I quite literally was holding myself together. I was so scared – isn’t that selfish of me? I couldn’t find my Ghost, there were patrols all around _everywhere_ and I just – I can’t. I–”

Saint interrupts by giving your hand a squeeze, and he speaks before you can continue.

“I should have been here. I should have helped,” Saint’s words shock you to the core, and you whip your head around to stare at him. He is gazing at his feet, and his other hand is balled into a fist. “When the City needed me most, I was still lost to everyone. I could have given up long ago, and returned where I was needed, but that which I was searching for was never found by myself. Only by you.”

Saint shakes his head as you slowly lower your arm, resisting the urge to hug yourself. Here he was, one of the greatest Titans to ever live, trying to reassure you – only, you somehow felt worse. Inadequate. If _he_ of all people felt bad, then where did that leave you?

You only ever seemed to cause more problems – those people were _right._ “I’ve never felt so helpless. Everything I touch, everyone I _help_ , things only seem to get worse. I tried to help the Queen of the Reef – now her city is cursed. I tried to help Eris on the moon – I only seem to have brought up bad memories, and may have brought in even larger, worse, forces at play. I went looking for you, in the Infinite Forest, and seem to have broken time. Cayde died, on my watch. I found the bodies of the Ironlords, infected by SIVA. There was no saving either of them, neither Cayde, nor those long passed. And the Red War? My weakness cost so many lives. I don’t care that my light was taken, I should have done _more._ There is a _price_ for _everything_ that I do… I get lauded by some, but I guess I’m hated by most.” You say it with a half-laugh, half-sob, and want nothing more to bury your head under a pillow to cry at home at that moment.

Saint tilts his head to the side. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to figure out what to say, or listening to his Ghost, or both. There was nothing _to_ say that could help.

This was not a new insecurity of yours; it had only grown worse, over the years.

“Guardian… I have had many failures, over the years. You have seen me at one of my worst, quite literally.” Saint lets go of your hand, and it’s absence leaves no extra comfort in its wake. You stare down at your feet.

“You have done your best with what you have done always. The Traveler chose _you_ to help it during the Red War, and you did _all that_ by yourself. While some may disagree and blame you, those circumstances were out of your control. Riven? An Ahamkara. There’s a reason we all but hunted them to extinction. They are dangerous, and even more so Taken. That was out of your control.”

Saint tilts your chin up towards him, gently, and you gaze at him with such pain in your eyes he looks like (had he the tear ducts) he would cry himself.

“Eris has been dealing with her demons for a long time. You are helping her, whether or not you truly believe it. That kind of trauma leaves scars that never truly fade. But there are countless Guardians who perished on the moon who are finally finding their peace because of you. The Ironlords found their own demise, _years_ before you were resurrected. Cayde’s death was out of your control. There was _no way_ you could have known that would happened. Need I remind you that Cayde was Vanguard for a reason? He knew what he was getting into. I did, Osiris did, and so did Tallulah, all those years ago.” He shakes his head. “You saved _me_ out of circumstances that were Osiris’s own machinations. Not yours. I am here now, _saved_ , because of you.”

You reach out, and wrap your arms around him in a hug – Saint was far warmer to the touch than you had expected once again, and he seems momentarily surprised at the action.

Saint then rests his chin on your head, and murmurs so quietly that you have to strain to hear.

“Please remember that some things are out of your control. Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes, it may take us years to find out the _why._ We must trust in the Traveler for choosing us to bear these burdens, but we do not have to bear them alone.” His voice rumbled in his chest calmingly, like a soothing song on the wind.

“Thank you.” Your voice breaks.

You two stay there for a while longer. Standing on the side of the street, hugging each other, as Saint whispered reassurances and praise into your ear as you sobbed.

When you return back to the Tower late into the evening, disheveled and exhausted after having walked back instead, Saint ushers you back to your apartment with little protest as he wards off any curious inquiries from fellow, concerned Guardians.

The last thing you remember before you fall asleep is the feeling of being held in Saint’s arms, lowering you onto your bed, and a small metal brush of his lips on your forehead as he tucks you in.

Your dreams are filled with nightmares, but that feeling of comfort carries you through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -quietly adds the hurt/comfort tag after this chapter lol-
> 
> this uhhh. took a life of its own part way as I decided to explore the city instead
> 
> the conversation Saint and the Guardian have is one I wanted to write the moment I started this, and I knew I wanted to place it early on. You can't tell me that after everything they've been through, there are some who aren't going to be happy - there always are. I figured Saint was just the right person to bring some comfort (and a bonus kiss, hehe), but yeah. 
> 
> As always, lemme know if you spot any errors, I don't think there's any but it's just me writing this and things can always slip by :) thank you for all of the feedback, your kudos and comments mean a lot to me ;w; I'm so glad you're all liking this so far!!
> 
> Next chapter: Iron Banana and all that comes with it, and more


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Saint partake in the Iron Banner.

You slowly wake to the sounds of voices – one tinny, and one very, _very_ loud.

“No.”

“Saladin, please. Just this once!”

“I said no, Saint.” You hear a distant crash, and rub your eyes groggily.

_What is going on?_

“Saint…?” You mumble, peeling off the covers of your bed. You stretch, and your Ghost materializes next to you. “Whashappenin’?” You slur with a yawn.

Saint, sitting on the couch with his Ghost summoned, turns to look at you with what appears to be surprise. “Guardian–”

Whatever he was about to say is immediately cut off by Saladin on the other end of the line. “Is that the Young Wolf? Maybe you can convince this knucklehead that his idea is a bad one. I have the patience to supervise one, but not _both_ of you.”

You choose that moment to speak again, only slightly annoyed at the rude awakening. “Saint, what on _Earth_ is going on? Why are you yelling at Lord Saladin?”

_> >Where’s Shiro when you need him?<< _Your Ghost grumbles, and you have to stifle a laugh.

“I was trying to convince Lord Saladin here that the two of us partaking in the Iron Banner together was a good idea,” Saint says with a grumble. “I, however, am all but banned from this version of the Crucible as it stands, and Lord Saladin seem to be of the opinion that the _two_ of us participating is too much for anyone to handle.”

“Sorry, what?” You blink, and stare at Saint with wide-eyes. You’d _completely_ forgotten that this season of the Iron Banner had started up again, with everything else you had going on. “Um, pardon me, Lord Saladin, but why? I’m allowed to participate, right? And I’m pretty strong. And I can go in with my Fireteam, who took down almost every single strong thing with me. Why isn’t Saint allowed in, too?”

Funny – the Godslayer was allowed to participate, but not Saint. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or be angry at the hypocrisy.

Lord Saladin goes silent, and Saint flashes you a thumbs-up. After a far-too-long pause;

“Separate teams,” Saladin declares finally, catching both of your attentions. “I’ll only let you both partake in the Iron Banner if you’re both on separate teams. I want Guardians to know what it is like going against those with strong light, as that is part of the purpose of the Iron Banner. However, I am not cruel, nor unfair.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Having both of you fight together is so lopsided, it’s unproductive to helping anyone learn anything. Those who will partake in this match will have to sign up specifically for it, and I’ll be filtering through candidates personally.”

“YES!” Saint exclaims with a fist-pump in the air, bringing a smile to your face. “You will not regret this, I promise.” Without further ado, Saint clicks off the call, and turns to you once again. “I am sorry for awakening you so suddenly. I know I said that I would preferably have you not be doing anything strenuous this week, but I noticed that the Iron Banner was on,” he says with a half shrug. “I was thinking it would be a nice surprise for both of us to join in it…? Since you have worked with Lord Saladin before, and it is a form of the Crucible I have never partaken in.” Saint trails off, hesitantly, and you flash him your most reassuring smile.

“I would love to! I can understand Lord Saladin’s hesitation at having both of us in the same match, though,” you say with a sheepish grin. “I’ve heard other Guardians complain in the past about myself and my Fireteam partaking, and how lopsided matches seem to be without any locks on our power. Such is our blessing and curse, I guess.” You both laugh, and you pause, sniffing the air.

“Did… Did you make breakfast?” _Why do I smell smoke?_

“I did!” The sound that follows is the thumping of metal feet on carpet as Saint rushes over to your kitchen. “Okay, good, the eggs are not burned. Entirely.”

_I think this is the first time someone’s ever made food for me_ , you think to your Ghost. _In this lifetime, anyways. I honestly don’t care if it’s burnt. Oh my Traveler, Ghost. Ghost! SAINT-14 MADE BREAKFAST FOR ME._ You could already imagine the rumors that would spread if anyone found out.

As you internally squeal in delight (and panic), you pull on your slippers, and shuffle into the kitchen. You’re greeted by the sight of Saint wearing a comically small lacy apron with the words ‘Kiss the Exo’ stitched by hand on it. You have to place a hand over your mouth not to burst out laughing.

“There you are!” Saint says, as he turns fully towards you. He is holding two very large plates in his hands, a full breakfast of eggs, hash browns and bacon with some pancakes off to the side. It all smells delicious, and you’re pretty sure your mouth is watering.

You sit down at your table, and realize that Saint had already set it up. “Just how long have you been _awake?_ ” You question, feeling suddenly sheepish at your sleeping in.

“Ah! Have no worries, my friend. I was already up early co-ordinating with Saladin a few hours before you awoke. You actually caught the end of our argument,” Saint says with a laugh. “While Zavala and Shaxx will never admit it, that man is the reason the two are so stubborn.”

You nod, and begin to dig into your food. It’s really, _really_ good, and once again you’re struck with the fact that you’re having an _actual meal_ (at home!) with Saint and not having takeout or going out on your own.

If someone had said that you’d be doing this in your first few years as a Guardian, you would’ve called them a liar, for sure.

The two of you chat as you eat, and it’s so easy to banter back and forth with Saint. Any prior nervousness fades away. The both of you are excited about facing each other in the Iron Banner – and then, Saint is enjoying your tale of eradicating SIVA, and his eyes shine bright with admiration as you speak.

You’re grinning at him in turn with such warmth, a stark difference from your distress the day before, and while your Ghost hasn’t said anything directly, you can feel their relief. All too soon, you finish the meal, and the two of you make your way to the sink to clean the dishes.

“I suppose after this we should go to Lord Saladin as soon as we can,” you mumble. _I don’t want this to end._

“That would probably be a wise idea, given how much arguing I had to do with him to get to this point,” Saint says with a reassuring smile. “Come, my friend. No need to look so glum – I won’t hit you _that_ hard! We’ll be back here before you know it.” Saint reassures, completely misunderstanding your expression. He hesitates a moment, then pats your shoulder. “I _would_ like to discuss what happened yesterday with you again later, if you are comfortable enough. I am not okay in the slightest with what happened, and, well…” Saint gives a half shrug. “I know that sometimes exercise or any type of distraction may help, with how our brains react to it. In reality, it is a small thing to do that may or may not help, but I think this is much better than sitting around the apartment for a day having tea, no?”

You can’t argue with that, not really, even if the prospect of just sitting around having tea with him sounds appealing. You knew you had your own trauma to deal with, as did he. The two of you working through it _together_ meant a lot to you, as you’d never really been able to discuss it openly before, and… You just hoped you would be able to deal with his just as well as he’d been helping you. Cayde’s death, the Red War, everything left its mark on you. The same could be said with Saint, and his years in the Infinite Forest, and his constant defense of the City as it slowly was built.

You could do this – together. He was so supportive to you, so kind…

As you exit your apartment to head to Saladin, you realize something with sudden clarity;

By the Traveler, you were falling in love with him, and you had it _bad_.

The two of you make your way over to the main plaza to do some final detail checks with Saladin, then both transmat to your ships as the announcement is made. You both had already drawn many stares, and it was definitely a good thing that you weren’t able to see the mad-dash for signing up that ensued Saladin’s announcement of the terms of the fight. You were already too preoccupied with your revelation, and are grateful for the momentary silence, at least before it’s disrupted.

_Ghost, what do I **do?**_ You think to the little robot in a panic. _Is there any rules or regulations against this? I know they’re just feelings, and I can try to supress them if I need to, won’t it cause some sort of issue? Shit, what are other Guardians going to think?_

_> >Calm down,<< _Your Ghost says, trying to sound as reassuring as they can. _> >Plenty of Guardians have been in relationships before, and I think Saint is trying to get to know you on your own terms. He made you breakfast this morning, never mind carried you back to your apartment!<< _Your Ghost practically screams into your head. _> >Have you ever considered that he might feel the **same?** <<_

Your conversation is cut short as you get the notification that the entry period has begun.

_We’ll continue this conversation later,_ you resolve.

The first to join your Fireteam is an Awoken Hunter, who instantly transmats onto your ship with a cheeky grin. At first glance, she was far shorter than you expected – which you suppose gave her an advantage in the Crucible, being able to sneak more easily.

“Hi! I’m Larkspur. Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna chill in the back over here since my ship’s being repaired. AndalsosolookatyourshipsinceIcan. Also, nice gun.” She pats her own hand cannon – _Sunshot_ – and you hear her mumble to her Ghost, “There, I got you on Saint’s ship. What do you mean, this version of the Gray Pigeon doesn’t count?!”

You idly reach for the hand cannon you’d equipped – The Last Word. _Interesting. Either she recognized it, or she’s clueless._

_> >Most likely clueless,<< _your Ghost supplies in response. _> >Looks like she was ressed pretty recently, a few months before the start of the Red War. She’s got an Unbroken killstreak in the Crucible, though.<<_

_Huh._

Your thoughts are cut short as the notification of someone else getting filtered through to your Fireteam goes through – a Warlock this time, and an Exo at that. Static buzzes on your comms as a ship pulls into view.

“Hello. This is the Fireteam of the Young Wolf, correct?”

“Wait a sec. Is that who I think it is?!” Larkspur’s voice perks up from the back, from wherever she’d holed up. “Hi, Lu!”

“What?” The Exo on the line sounds surprised for a moment, then quickly recovers. “Huh. I guess Saladin _does_ have a sense of humor. Sorry, let me start again. My name is Lupine-9. Larkspur is my girlfriend. I am looking forward to competing with you, Guardian.” Lupine pauses. “Also, Lark? Didn’t you _just_ get back from your scouting mission? You told me you’d let me know when you got back!”

“That’s ‘cause I **_did_** _just_ get back! I saw Saladin’s call, and entered as soon as I could!”

_> >The plot thickens,<<_ your Ghost laughs, as the two banter. _> >Turns out, these two met **in** the Crucible, after Larkspur kicked his ass. He asked her out afterwards, and caused quite the scene. Lord Shaxx was **not** pleased.<<_

A pause. _> >Hey, do you think Saint would ever do that with yo-<<_

_Not helping, Ghost!_ You respond in a panic. _I sincerely doubt Saint is going to make any moves on me in a competition like this, if what you suggested earlier is right._

At least, you hope he wouldn’t. Given how much you’d been thinking about him, period, you weren’t exactly sure what your response would be if he did. Hopefully not an incident like Larkspur and Lupine, at any rate.

“Well, I’m pleased to meet you both,” you respond, and settle into the cockpit seat. You hear a distant _clang_ , and the sound of someone falling on the floor.

“Sorry!” Larkspur calls, and you hold back a laugh as you realize she knocked over a bunch of spare primary ammo you’d forgotten to put away.

_> >Oh, I forgot to mention she’s apparently a klutz, which leads to most of her deaths. We’ll have to keep an eye on her, at any rate.<<_

You hear another notification, and see another Awoken has joined, this time a Titan. As her ship pulls into view, you accept her vidscreen request.

“Hi! I’m Kelp, and my Ghost’s name is Seaweed. You can probably guess where I died originally,” she says with a small laugh and a wave, then leans back in her seat. “I love the Crucible, but I’m gonna be honest – I need your help for a different reason, so I figured this’d be the best way to approach you and also, uh, prove my worth. You know Petra Venj, right?”

You nod, wondering where this is going exactly.

“I’ve been, uh, trying to work up the courage to ask her on a date, but I don’t know what to do for it. I know she’s technically, uh, crushing on the Queen too, but…” Kelp rubs her neck. “She’s pretty and I wanna at least try, okay? And I know you’ve worked with her far more than I have, and every chance _I_ have had, I think I’ve embarrassed myself each time…”

“World cold and hard, boob soft and warm.” Larkspur calls sagely from the back. “Petra’s a good choice, I for one am rootin’ for you.”

_> >Pfffft.<<_

“No guarantees” is all you can promise to Kelp before the final two members of your Fireteam join you, another Warlock and a Hunter. You receive the co-ordinates from Lord Saladin for the match at the same moment. _I guess someone wants to get this over with._

“Twilight Gap… Hmm.” You mumble aloud, as your Ghost materializes to punch in the co-ordinates. “Does Lord Saladin realize both Saint and I were there fairly recently?” The sidearm you’d received, Devil’s Ruin, had proved quite useful. Still, though… “Curious.”

You head into your warm, and your comms buzz once again.

“So,” Lupine starts, “just how much of an ass-kicking are we in for? It’s not like any of us have seen Saint fight, or at least nothing out of the legends.”

Pondering that for a moment, you tap your chin with a finger. “ _Well..._ I don’t know who Lord Saladin assigned to Saint’s team, but more likely than not he’s going to either punch you to death or slice you with his shield. Or headbutt you, which is going to hurt. Remember your helmets, everyone,” you add as an afterthought.

“In all honesty, though, everyone _does_ have their weaknesses. Saint… I think he’s probably going to be distracted by going after me, so you all may get lucky. I would say focus on his teammates. I can deal with him.”

Well, you hoped you could, anyways. Famous last words, at the very least.

* * *

The match had started out well – you were correct in your prediction for the most part, and you belatedly see Larkspur trip and get nearly sliced in half by a shield throw from Saint in between Zone B and C. An ‘oof’ from Lupine is all you get to hear in response before you’re chasing after Saint, who had started heading in the direction of Zone C, alone.

“I’m gonna try and hold him here. Focus on the other Zones,” you call out, and see Kelp and the other Warlock chase after a pair of enemy hunters. The sound of thunder fills your ears as Kelp lets out a cry, crashing into the two and getting a double kill.

_> >If she can do that on her own without getting nervous, we should just show vids of this to Petra to see if it helps at all,<< _your Ghost suggests. _> >After the match, of course.<<_

You round the corner, and are treated to the fire of a machine gun almost instantaneously. You duck and roll to the floor to get to a barrier, whipping out The Last Word. You peek around the corner, cautiously, and are met with another spray of bullets.

“You’re not even going to let me get a single shot off, are you?” You grumble, to which you hear Saint’s resounding laugh.

“I’ve seen enough of your Crucible highlight reels to know you have _very_ good aim with that thing with very few bullets, so no, I’m not,” he states matter of factly. “Come, face me head on! Let us give Saladin a show he will never regret.”

“Alright, well,” you start, “I apologize in advance.”

With that, you toss a grenade over the top, and sprint out and fire in the direction you last saw him in. Your first few bullets miss, but that’s because you’re sprinting just as hard away from him as you see he had pulled out his Perfect Paradox. “A game of cat and mouse, then,” you remark, and sprint out the door to try and get him in a better spot.

As you run to the sounds of Saint chasing after you, you hear from Saladin over your comms that your team had interchanged Zones and points enough with Saint’s that it was currently a tie. Not wanting to get in the way and cause your team to lose any unnecessary Zones to Saint, you lead him out towards one of the cannons.

“You cannot run forever!” Saint calls after you, with such glee in his voice your heart pounds. You knew from what he said that the Crucible had changed since his own time, but you were glad to be providing at least some semblance of enjoyment for him. He’d been through just as much as you, and even a small sense of normality could go a long way. You pull out your own Perfect Paradox – very close to where you wanted to get to, _perfect_ to whip around and nail him.

Distracted by your thoughts, you don’t feel the hand grabbing your leg before it’s too late.

Suddenly, you find yourself pinned underneath Saint, both of your Perfect Paradoxes pointed at each other. Yours was under his chin, and Saint’s was digging into your breastplate near your heart. The sound of your team’s chattering as they capture Zones fades from your ears, as you focus on the situation at hand.

_Oh my goodness. He’s so close, holy fuck. He’s going to kill me and win._

You pause. _Well, I guess there’s worse ways to go._

“It seems we are at an impasse,” Saint rumbles, so close that you can feel his voice vibrating in his chest. You’re sure Saint can feel your own heart thundering loudly, and you wriggle a bit in his grip.

“If you kill me, that’ll be enough points to win the match,” you point out breathlessly, and hope that your voice doesn’t come out as nervously as it sounds in your own head.

Saint laughs – shotgun still pointed at you, and cocks his head ever so slightly. “Your own team is catching up to mine again as we speak,” he hums thoughtfully, and you freeze as you feel one of his hands start creeping up your arm from where he had been holding your wrist. He is gentle, Saint is leaving you the ability to break free at any moment with his lightened grip. An unspoken _do you want this_ in the air between you.

Saint leans in, right by where your ear is in your helmet, and whispers, “Funnily, I find that I do not mind.”

Your Ghost is practically screaming in your ear, or cheering, you’re not sure, and your mind is filled with static.

In response, before you can even think, you place your other hand on his helmet, gently caressing the dents. While you haven’t yet verbally responded, Saint is holding his breath, and you lower your hand to his own breastplate in response.

“Hmm,” you wonder aloud, voice quiet amidst the sound of gunshots in the distance. “Not exactly how I was planning to die this match, but I suppose it could be worse…” Your arm moves to his bicep, and you feel him twitch at your touch. “Just the pull of a trigger, and we’re both out.”

You eye him.

A moment, then another. Saint slowly moves to cup your helmet, and you hear the _click_ of the lock mechanism disengaging right as his phases away.

You meet each other’s eyes. One heartbeat, two. Your Ghost is silent, for once, and a million thoughts run through your head.

_Is this right? Is this okay?_

_Is this **truly** what I want?_

As if sensing your hesitance, Saint smiles. Warm, reassuring, kind – and nods his head, with the tiniest of movements. He has been your rock, been your support, just as you were to him.

You pull Saint down, and kiss him on the mouth before you can think twice.

…

What was that saying about licking a pole in the middle of winter? You wriggle a little, only to find that your lips are stuck.

_Shit._

Saladin’s laughter fills your comms, as the match buzzes complete. Neither of you have any idea who won.

Neither of you care.

“I take back what I said this morning. After that utterly _sorry_ display of affection, I am shoving you two into another round, whether you like it or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer. I was hesitant on putting my own Guardian OCs in this, but then I figured that it would be kinda soulless to have a whole match without any characters to know getting into it lol. I also wanted to have them kiss - sorry I made it Like That, lol. Saladin's going to have a FIELD day with these two, by the time they're out of the match.
> 
> Also, Kelp is 100% me. I want to be Petra's gf, @bungie please let me she's so pretty and my bi ass is dying  
> Here's what [Kelp](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/439988058121568268/673608588480086026/unknown.png), [Larkspur](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/439988058121568268/673608364223103016/unknown.png), and [Lupine](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/439988058121568268/673608499485343747/unknown.png) all look like! If you guys liked em, I'll bring em back in the future, but if not, I'll leave them out. I'll likely be writing Kelp's attempts to woo Petra separately anyways. 
> 
> As always, lemme know what you think, and if you can spot any errors which I may have missed. Next chapter: The Aftermath, and the Vanguard come kickin' at the door. I'm going to try and keep updating every once or twice a week, just to be consistent. :) I really oughta stop uploading these late at night, lmao.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining Vanguard have a talk. Nobody is happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, there is some criticism of Zavala and the Vanguard here, and I love Zavala and the Vanguard but also figured it's healthy to have some doubt sprinkled into this story since we basically never see any ingame. It will continue for a bit in the story but will get resolved down the line, so hold onto your horses :)

The two of you end up fighting in the Iron Banner for the rest of the day. _Neither_ of you were given any breaks by Saladin after the stunt you pulled, and your only respite between matches is bantering back and forth between whoever had been matched on your team. Lupine ended up being able to stay for one more round before he was summoned by Ikora, and Larkspur for two more matches after that; somehow, you had a feeling that you’d be seeing them again fairly soon.

Kelp, on the other hand, managed to hold onto her spot on your team until you and Saint were finally set free from Saladin. Thanking you profusely for the experience (and asking for you to pass along the same message to Saint), Kelp left in a cheery mood with the promise to keep in touch.

You were, to be frank, exhausted. You also weren’t quite ready to deal with your actions earlier, prior enthusiasm or not. Saladin saved you from some of the awkwardness you were anticipating, as you and your Ghost received a notification from Geppetto that Saint was being held behind to talk to Saladin over comms.

The stars were beginning to rise in the night sky, as you transmatted into the Tower courtyard. Your first Iron Banner match earlier was _not_ televised, but the rest of them subsequently were once word had gone out proper. The few Guardians left milling about this late in the evening greeted you with a wave, and a few went and slapped you on the back with a few comments of ‘well done’ and ‘that was amazing!’ brushing over your weary sense of awareness.

“I guess now I have a chance to collect my thoughts,” you quietly mumble to your Ghost. In the distance, you can see the imposing figure of Zavala speaking to a few Guardians, and you make your way over to the Vault to store some of the weapons you’d earned from your Iron Banner matches.

As you store a Gunnora’s Axe, you hear a loud call of “Guardian!” from over your shoulder – only to get immediately barreled into by a very animated, very particular Titan.

“GUARDIAN!” Shaxx repeats, this time right in your ear. _Uh oh._ “I cannot believe you went into the Crucible without letting me know! That little bird prank I can forgive, as I _know_ it was Saint’s idea. But this? THIS?” He huffs, crossing his arms. “I had to listen to Lord Saladin gloating at me _all afternoon_ that he had managed to get you both into the same match. You _will_ make this up to me.” Before you can voice even the slightest protest, “YES, that is an order. Now, shoo. Off with you. I have another match to run, no thanks to you hogging Lord Saladin’s attention all day.”

As you walk away from the Vault storage area, you wave at Banshee, who grumbles about something in response that you weren’t able to catch. As you begin to make your way to your apartment, you hear another call of your name – and turn in the direction, only to see Zavala making his way over to you.

“Guardian. Do you have a moment?” Zavala asks, and it’s not like you can exactly deny the Vanguard Commander, so;

“Yes, I’m free. What do you need?” You ask, wondering just what exactly you did or that he needs _now._

“Good, good. I’d like to discuss this in private, so follow me, please.”

The two of you make your way over to the Hangar – and garner quite a few stares at you go, and you can feel the eyes of everyone on you even as you ascend the stairs to get to some of the private meeting rooms. The last time you’d been there, you’d accidentally stumbled across one of Ana Bray’s journals, which was entirely redacted. You’d been meaning to ask her about it, but constantly kept forgetting to.

As you enter in the room, to your surprise, you find Ikora already waiting.

That… That was not a good sign. You knew that the Vanguard had been strained as of late, but to present a united front regardless…

What did you _do?_

“Hello, Guardian,” Ikora greets warmly, or at least, as best as she can present to be. You may not have known her as long as anyone else, but the way she is wringing her hands nervously behind her back is something you have seen before, and does not bode well. “Commander Zavala and I have something we’d like to discuss with you. Feel free to take a seat.”

You move to sit down as Zavala moves to stand by one of the windows, half turned to the city outside. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and your thoughts are filled with worry about what it could possibly be – _is this about me helping the Drifter, or looking into the Shadows of Yor? Or maybe it’s about my contact with Shin Malphur? Man, I bet Aunor had a field day with all of this. Wait. Maybe it’s working with Osiris – didn’t Ikora speak to him recently, though?_

Your thoughts are interrupted by a delicate cough from Zavala, and you realize that he had asked you a question. “Sorry,” you say nervously. “I’ve had a long day. What was it you asked?”

“No worries. You have been working with Osiris, yes?” You nod. _Partially correct, I guess._ “And you helped rescue Saint-14 from the Infinite Forest, to which we all owe your thanks.” You nod once more, and ease back a little in your seat – where was he going with this?

“While we are all grateful for Saint’s return, you may recall me stating to you that I hold some concerns over the repercussions that your actions may hold,” Ikora starts, and you freeze in your seat. “The timeline, as it stands, is shattered. While Saint himself may be safe as it stands, your recklessness, alongside Osiris, has caused a resurgence in Red Legion activity that we find concerning. Not only that, but the Fallen have become more active, too. They have not forgotten Saint and his crusades so easily.”

 _> >Oh dear,<< _you hear your Ghost say, but you’re barely paying attention to them. _> >I don’t like where this is going.<<_

“Guardian, you know more than anyone that your actions tend to have an impact. Even the small things, or what we assumed to be small, like you taking care of that prison break with Cayde, has… Turned out to be far larger than any of us have imagined.” Zavala shakes his head, and turns to face you fully. “The Vanguard is concerned over your dealings with Osiris, and your interactions with Saint-14. Lord Saladin let us know earlier of something most curious that happened between you, and our Ghosts have been hearing rumors for weeks since Saint’s return that something is going on.”

Your breath is caught in your throat. “I… Don’t think I fully understand where this conversation is going. Sir.”

Zavala lets out a sigh, and pinches his brow. “Let me rephrase. We do not want you interacting with Saint any more than you need to.” You make a small noise, a mix somewhere between despair and anger, you weren’t exactly sure. You were in too much shock. “Ikora and I both share concerns that you will do something drastic, should you grow close to him, and something catastrophic happens to him. We do not know if his place in this timeline is secure. We cannot afford for you, too, as an example, going on another solo-crusade against the Vex in a hunt to find a point to bring back Saint once more. The timeline is already broken over Mercury; we do not want it breaking overtop Earth, too. Do you know how much people that you would be endangering, if you did? Riven’s curse in the Dreaming City is one thing – a man-made contraption and it’s functions such as the Sundial can be avoided altogether, to avert catastrophe.”

Zavala let out a small huff at your expression, and you’re not sure what it looked like at the moment. Whatever it was, caused Zavala to slowly turn back to the skyline of the City. That guilt, over this conversation, it seems even he could not face. “Please do not mistake my callousness for not being concerned for your wellbeing, or your personal life, or your right to be happy. I have a lot I am dealing with, as does Ikora, as are you. We are all still mourning Cayde; we have lost our better half, and you have already fallen down a pit of despair once. We need _you_ to be ready at a moment’s notice more than anything. I am sure I do not need to elaborate as to why. I am not saying you are not allowed to take breaks like this whenever you need to see him or others, but you must not allow your feelings to get in the way of your duties as a Guardian. You are one of, if not, our best. Many are relying on you.”

Whatever words you had prepared to argue with him slowly faded into a gnawing, sluggish weariness. You couldn’t argue – you could see his reasoning, as much as you hated to admit it. It was nothing you hadn’t already thought of yourself. You nod, slowly, and ignore Zavala’s sigh of relief along with your own Ghost’s pang of distress. “Understood, sir. Is that all?”

You all but flee the room at his affirmation, and return to your apartment in a daze. You manage to hold back your tears until you close the door, at the very least. Saint has not yet returned and won’t see you cry about Zavala’s words, and that’s a more immediate concern to you rather than dealing with the repercussions. You don’t want to disappoint him, especially after the brief moments you two have shared. But Zavala’s pleas were reasonable, and you couldn’t just ignore it; even if it broke your heart to do so.

How Zavala was going to break the news to Saint was something you didn’t want to worry about. You had come so far – you were _so tired_ of having your feelings played with by others.

You are still sniffling quietly to yourself as you hear a door open, distantly, before the pull of sleep brings you into a nightmare.

* * *

Geppetto receives a notification from your Ghost shortly after Saint finishes talking with Lord Saladin. The old Titan had much to discuss with him, ranging from fighting the SIVA-infected Fallen to your exploits helping him contain it and lay the Ironlords to rest. Whatever your Ghost had sent Geppetto was concerning, as Geppetto burst out into the air the first moment Saint had free.

“You need to go talk to Zavala,” Geppetto says breathlessly, and although Ghosts cannot really breathe, Geppetto sounds distressed. “Now. Him and Ikora are in one of the rooms above the Hangar.”

Saint transmats to the plaza in record time, and makes a beeline for the Hangar. He receives many stares as he walks (nothing which he is not used to already), but in his periphery he could hear murmuring about just _what_ could cause him to be in a hurry.

Saint takes the stairs two steps at a time, and all but bursts into the room. Zavala is still facing the window, and Ikora is staring at her hands in her lap. They both jump in surprise at Saint’s entrance.

Panting, Saint braces himself against the doorway for a moment, then eases himself in. “I do hope I am not interrupting anything – I received a most curious message from a particular Ghost, which may or may not involve me somehow.”

“Saint,” Zavala starts, and his tone is so strained it gives Saint whiplash. “You have good timing, we were just trying to figure out how best to approach you. I know we have not been able to really speak with you much since your return, but… How are you faring?”

“I am doing as well as I can be,” Saint starts, and he knows full well that Zavala is trying to make up for lost time and stalling all at once. “I had much fun trying out the Iron Banner earlier, although you likely saw that already. I was speaking to Lord Saladin just moments ago. He sends his regards,” he says, and tries to give his most reassuring smile.

“I am… adjusting. I am grateful for the help that my Guardian has given me, in not only becoming acclimated to this new time, and helping me find duties that would best serve the city. I have missed much, and I want to try and make it up as best as I can, while I am here.”

“That is good to hear,” Ikora says warmly, and at least _that_ sounds like genuine relief. “We have both been busy,” she says, with a brief glance at Zavala, “and things have been… Difficult, since Cayde’s death. I do hope we have not offended you in not speaking much sooner.”

“No, no, you are fine!” Saint is quick to reassure, with the wave of a hand. “I have been just as busy helping my Guardian and Osiris deal with the crisis on Mercury.”

Zavala takes that moment to interject. “It is good you brought that up, as I was wondering how best to approach the subject and that around it.” 

Saint freezes.

“It is of… It is of concern, to the two of us as Vanguard, about your dealings with the Young Wolf. We have respected your request to give them a week of rest; do not worry, that is well deserved. But – there is other things that we need to discuss, and… Rumors.”

“I am not sure I understand. Did I do something, in my short time back here?” Something about Saint’s wording causes Ikora to flinch, and Saint frowns. “Or is it Osiris?”

“We…” Zavala looks to Ikora for a moment, and steels himself. “We are concerned, that you and the Young Wolf are growing far too attached to each other. It is no small secret how much they liked Cayde, and as you already know, after his death they launched a 1-Guardian war against the Scorn.”

“This is not an issue,” Ikora interjects, “but we are worried, as well as the Praxic order, what such a relationship between you and them will cause. You have already caused issues with the timeline on Mercury, but that was not your doing. That was Osiris’s, and I did not move to intervene, so it is just as equally on me.”

“We are worried,” Zavala continues, annoyance seeping into his voice, “that if they should grow so attached to you, and you allow and encourage it, that should something happen to you in the events of us fixing what is going on with Mercury or any other incident, it may destroy them. They are our best Guardian at this current time, and they are teetering on the brink of Darkness with each consecutive loss.”

Saint stares.

He cannot believe his ears.

“ _What?_ Since WHEN does the Vanguard get involved with inter-Guardian affairs? Zavala. I am just one man, and no longer Vanguard. The Guardian can handle themselves, as can I. I am offended, and upset,” he states, trying his very best to remain calm. “I was notified that their Ghost was quite upset about something. What did you tell _them?_ ”

“We told them much of the same,” Zavala says with a weary sigh – he is bracing for a fight. Saint won’t allow it. “They know that they have responsibilities, as do you. We, at this point in time, are so very close to either success and catastrophe on a grand scale; there can be _no_ distractions. You are both high profile, perhaps the most famous-Guardians still alive. Your actions have consequences.”

Saint’s hands ball into fists, and his voice shakes with barely-withheld hostility. “Zavala. You cannot tell me after the centuries I spent fighting to see this city I see now, and to be finally reunited with my savior, that I am not allowed to support them as they have done me! Even Lord Saladin understood and supported us, and he’s lost almost everything.” Saint slams a fist down on the table, causing both Ikora _and_ Zavala to jump.

“Look. I understand that you are just trying to protect them from getting hurt even more, and everyone else as collateral damage from any fallout. Their actions affect everyone, yes. I understand that you are still mourning of Cayde, and are trying to fill that gap. I understand that his loss hurt both of hurt both of you, _and_ my Guardian. But trying to prevent tragedy before it even happens instead of allowing things to progress as they are, regardless of the outcome, is absurd.”

Zavala takes a breath to speak, and Saint cuts him off with a pointed finger. “Hold on, I am NOT done! The reason that we are here today is _because_ of them. Can you honestly say you would have been able to defeat Oryx or the Red Legion without them, as an example? I certainly wouldn’t have been able to. We owe them. I will not deny that, especially since that is most true for me out of any of us. I understand that you cannot sanction the actions they took to avenge Cayde, nor co-operating with Osiris to save me. But you _need_ to give them some understanding, some space, or it will be our doom.”

Saint shakes his head, and places a hand on his head. “They are fraying at the seams already, and you cannot see it. Soon I will be able to count with all the fingers on my hands how much they have confided in me, which has broken their spirit. I missed the signs of supporting Osiris all those years ago with issues like this, and lost him from the City, to the Infinite Forest. The weight of the world is on our Guardian’s shoulders. If I can provide the support that they need to keep going, and help them perform the best that they can, why shouldn’t I? Did you not notice how much happier they were this week, having the chance to breathe? To _live?_ ”

Saint falls silent, and watches Zavala’s and Ikora’s expressions closely before speaking once more. Ikora looks contemplative, and Zavala… Sad. Weary. “There is an old poem, from before the Golden Age. ‘It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all’. I believe this applies more now than ever. I… do worry, that one day, I will one day have to leave again, if my presence continues to contribute to breaking the timeline. It is hard enough for me, as it is, trying to navigate the differences between back then and now. But the Guardian knows the risks, as do I. Please,” Saint pleads, finally, “let them, _us,_ at least have this. We have both fought hard. At least allow us this small sliver of happiness, as we both adjust to the ever-changing world around us. Do not force something that you both will regret.”

The room falls silent, and the resounding silence is so thick even _Saint_ starts feeling uncomfortable after a few moments. A small part of him thinks, _they deserve this awkwardness, after what damage they have probably already caused to you._

Ikora looks to Zavala, and Zavala is staring at Saint – no, looking _past_ him. “I…” Zavala clears his throat, and returns Ikora’s gaze. Something unsaid passes between the two. “…Alright. We will allow this _relationship_ to go further. But you both must be careful, and be ready for anything that may happen. And you _must_ be prepared to deal with the worst, if either of you should fall. You must be here for people other than yourselves. You helped build this city, Saint. You both are Guardians. Do not forget that protecting it comes first.”

Saint nods, and rises to leave. “Trust me, I understand this predicament more than anyone. You will not regret this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Zavala a lot, and he is very, Very stressed, so I at least can understand his concern over a relationship like this, and i hope yall can, too. With Saint's fate up in the air right now and along with the question of what's gonna happen after we deal with the Cabal in the Sundial, I wanted to leave it open.
> 
> Next chapter is going to be very fluffy, and also a lil spicy ;) as always, let me know what you think! I wrote this like... literally in class at uni and was so excited to post it I wanted to do it as soon as I could hahaha


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saint talks with Osiris; The Guardian talks with Saint.
> 
> Things get a bit suggestive at the end, but it's just a fade to black. We're almost into purely fluff territory, though, so rejoice!

You dreamed.

You were back in the Corridors of Time, the strange, blank whiteness stretching on forever. While you had spent much of the past few weeks in your free time running through it to map it, you thought you were done with it for the time being. You’d never really gotten far before being sent back to the beginning, but you could always see a strange mound in the distance before you were warped back to the start.

_Wasn’t I already done here?_

When you try to summon your Ghost, they fade away just as soon as they appear.

_Strange._

A vision, then?

You hadn’t had one since the Traveler was captured by the Red Legion. But in that one, you weren’t able to move, no less control your actions… Not to mention the bird.

Making your way forward, you decide it’s best to simply try and brute force through the dream instead of stay put. It’s not like it was real – there would be no consequences for getting lost, so far as you knew. You were once again reminded, in that moment, what it must have been like for Saint to get lost, and for Osiris’ thousands of Echoes to search. Madness was an understatement.

Pulling out Perfect Paradox, you begin to take out some of the Vex blocking the way, and enter through the Clover gate. The only sound you hear, other than the whirr of the Vex in the distance and the sound of reality shifting around you is the pounding of your feet. You couldn’t even see your shadow.

Diamond, Snake, Clover, Plus, Plus. Triple Hex. You try to keep focused, but it feels like your body is leading you; you felt like you were floating, running on thin air. Eventually, it solidifies into a pull;

You feel the change before you see it – once again, you are back in the room with the mound. However, this time, you can make it out more clearly. You’re not even aware of what door you had entered in.

The tether that had been guiding you now broken, you wearily walk towards the center, slowly. No warping, no vanishing, something different, something _wrong._

You can make out the shape more clearly. Was… Was that a grave? You instinctively pull out your Ghost to scan it – only not to see it vanish, but materialize atop of the grave. _Wait…_

“Thank you for coming. We’ve gathered here today to celebrate the life of my mentor. My inspiration. My love.”

You freeze. A shiver passes over you, the ghost of a touch. You’re confused – scared – _afraid_.

“They called them Crota’s End. The Hivebane. Kingslayer. The Young Wolf.”

Saint’s voice, fading in and out, pauses once more. “Hero of the Red War.-… The person who avenged Cayde-6.”

You’re reminded, then, of all the warnings Osiris had given you about the Corridors of Time – about how they are projections of the future, of something that is or _could be_. It’s a reassuring thought, hollow at best, but… You’re holding onto it.

Why were you getting a vision of your own _funeral?_

“They had a hundred titles I cannot recall. And they died doing what they do best. Defending the Last City of Humanity. Ages ago, they saved my life. And then inspired me to save myself. I am glad that they did. Because, Traveler help us, they are gone.”

You knew that one day, down the line, you were likely to meet your end. Such was the burden of a hero; you’d made your peace with it, the moment you delved into Crota’s lair, and the Vault of Glass. But this… This is different. Saint, usually so positive, so boisterous, sounds tired. In mourning – afraid.

“There is no one to save us now.” Saint’s voice takes a breath, and you ball your hands into fists – dream or not, this was not something to ignore. Or, at least, you tried to reassure yourself it was a dream.

“On the day we met, I decided I would follow their example. I’m still trying. I… I had hoped, to fight, to live the rest of our days, together.”

It felt all too real.

“I’ve marked this grave with one of their favorite weapons, shattered in that final confrontation. It used to be mine. All who find what we’ve left here – please leave it be.” Saint’s voice breaks, in that moment, and your heart goes with him. “Unless… Unless you’re still out there somewhere. You’ve performed miracles before. With me. In which case, take it. And come back to us. And we’ll kill what killed you. Or die trying.”

Unknown to you, subconscious still trapped in the Corridors of Time, Saint has long since departed your room at the behest of your Ghost – and is on a mission.

* * *

You awake slowly to the smell of eggs and the sizzling bacon roasting in your kitchen, and briefly wonder if you are, perhaps, somehow still asleep. You felt deeply unsettled, and more than a little bit worried. Wait – Saint is still in your kitchen. _Wouldn’t Zavala have ordered Saint to leave already? Why is he still here?_

Confused, and concerned, you rise slowly like a corpse. Which, technically speaking was true, considering all Guardians were undead.

It takes you a moment to realize that Saint is _humming_ while he’s cooking, and were you not already stressed out to hell and back, you may have laughed instead of become even more upset. The conversation between you and Saint that was to come would likely be just as upsetting as your dream, however ominous it was.

For once, you can’t just brush off your death like nothing, considering in whatever timeline you’d seen, it appeared to be permanent.

_(“We need to talk.”_

_While Sagira had warned him of his approach, Osiris still isn’t fully prepared to hear the sound of Saint’s voice. He hopes he doesn’t visibly flinch as hard as he just did internally. While he is still turned towards the Sundial, Saint has his full attention._

_“Saint.” The two of them had talked, shortly after Saint’s escape from the forest – Saint was willing to give Osiris time, but also was impatient to see him again. Osiris… Osiris was not prepared in the slightest, for the confrontation that followed. Neither was Saint, judging by how he hesitated a few feet away._

_After everything… Saint had been understanding, but also angry. At Osiris’ selfishness, at Osiris’ disregard for safety of himself and for the Guardian, and most of all, angry that they were even in this position at all._

_Saint clears his throat, unsure what to say. Subtlety had never been his strong suit, for as long as Osiris has known him._

_“I need help.”)_

“Saint?” You call out to the other room, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas before you start searching for him. As you round the corner, you freeze in your tracks. How are you going to even bring up what happened yesterday? You didn’t think ahead. ‘Sorry, my boss is preventatively ordering me not to have feelings for you so I’m not a liability’ is the cold, hard truth, and you’re not even sure how he would react. And now ‘I heard you speak my eulogy’ was something else entirely that you weren’t sure how to deal with. You could already feel a headache growing.

“Guardian!” Saint greets, effectively cutting off your downward spiral of thoughts. “Come, sit. We have much to discuss. Geppetto also received notifications this morning that Lord Saladin has something for us both that we’ll need to pick up later, but he said there is no rush.”

“Uh… huh.” That’s the most dignified response you can make, as you move to sit, largely taken aback by his forwardness. How could he be so _cheerful_?

The two of you start your breakfast in silence, the sound of cutlery on plates and the whirring of machinery the only noise in the room. You refuse to look him at all, too busy trying to figure out what to say. You had no idea where your Ghost went, but you weren’t too concerned.

“Guardian,” Saint starts, with a grunt. “I received a most worrisome message from your Ghost last night – one in which they were extremely concerned over your mental well-being.”

Scratch that, _now_ you were concerned.

“…What…Did they say?” You choke out, trying your very hardest to appear calm.

“That Commander Zavala,” Saint rumbles, “is being a hypocrite. And that Ikora is being stubborn, much like her mentor.” He shakes his head. “Being on the receiving end of both of those types of attitudes is something I am all too familiar with, so… I _spoke_ with them.”

The way he emphasises spoke instantly worries you. “Spoke? What did you _do?_ ” Internally, you were already panicking over the fact that he talked to them _already._ Just how much of a reprimand would you be in for?

“Before I answer that; I believe the question that _I_ should be asking _you_ is, are you alright?”

You pause.

( _Osiris turns to Saint, fully, at the urgent tone of Saint’s voice. Something was wrong – he cannot remember the last time he was that worried._

 _“I have not heard you this tense in a long while, Saint.”_ Not since I initially left, and you tried to defend me. _“What’s wrong?”_

_Part of Osiris wonders – **fears** – that something has happened, that will make him lose Saint into the Forest again. Given how they had parted, last, he isn’t sure how he would react, if that was the case._

_“I am in a… dilemma. And that dilemma has caused more problems than I anticipated,” Saint rumbles, and Osiris lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding._

_“The Vanguard has raised a good point, and I want to do my best to avoid it ever happening. And I need to address it. Before I start – Osiris, I forgive you.”_

_Osiris sputters. “I’m sorry?”_

_“I forgive you,” Saint says, carrying on as if he was oblivious to Osiris’s display of surprise. “And you need to forgive yourself, if we are to move forward. But I want to make one thing clear – I cannot give you what you seek from me, any longer.”_

_Osiris feels the world shatter around him all at once.)_

“…No,” you admit slowly, and you grip your knees. _One issue at a time._ “No, I’m not. Saint… Do you know what I discussed with the Vanguard last night?”

He shrugs, though you can tell from the tone of his voice that he’s relieved you at least admitted it this time. “Well, yes, naturally. Your Ghost spared me no detail; they were quite upset.” You’re still not looking at him, but you know he’s watching you closely once more. You get a sense of vague déjà vu.

“I realize that I may have been forward with you during my time since escaping the Infinite Forest, and I apologize. I will also admit that... I may have idolized you, more than a little bit. You were one of my driving forces in continuing my fight, as you know. I had longed during those years in the Infinite Forest to see you and your City.” Saint pauses, and seems to re-evaluate his words.

You’re reminded of Saint’s words in your dream that night – ‘On the day we met, I decided I would follow their example. I had hoped, to fight, to live the rest of our days, together.’ You still weren’t sure how to react, but you could feel a growing pit in your chest. Was it sadness? Or something else?

“I have told you much about how I feel about you, but have not heard how you feel about me. I want you to be honest, if you can. I want to prove Zavala’s concerns wrong, and do this right. I won’t lie about what you’d be getting into, Guardian relationships most often end in heartbreak or tragedy. Osiris… Osiris and I proved that quite well. You may be immortal, but you still need peace, and the ability to live a good life. You are not just a weapon.”

Saint drags a hand down his face, as you stare on in silence. Your words, for the moment, have left you. “In addition, I visited Osiris, while you slept. After the meeting with the Vanguard. Your Ghost had informed me that they noticed some strange energies affecting you, reminiscent of the resonance of the Infinite Forest, while I was there.”

( _“Saint –”_

_“I am sorry, Osiris. Truly.” The tone of Saint’s voice had shifted from worried, to pained. “But I am in pain, and have been for a long time. As have you. I spent years searching for you, and you for me. But I do not know if I will be able to move forward, as things were in the past. As they are now.”_

_Sagira is silent in his ear, but all Osiris hears is static._

_“I want to serve the City in the best way that I can. I love you, Osiris – I still do, and I will never stop. But I do not think it is healthy for me to continue like this, and I want the both of us to fulfill our roles to our best potential.”_

_A strangled noise comes from somewhere – Osiris belatedly realizes that it is from him._

_“Saint –”_

_“Osiris,_ please. _Do not make this any harder than it needs to be,” Saint says, and Osiris knows, in that moment, if Saint had the ability to cry, he would be.)_

“I’d been doing quite well until now,” you mumble, “it’s not like the nightmare I had last night cares about that, though...”

Saint blinks, and makes a concerned noise. “Is _that_ what that was? When I spoke to Osiris, he noticed that a simulation was running without his oversight. Neither of us could figure out what it was.” Saint pauses, as if there is something else, then shakes his head, and you feel a pang of relief, before a momentary panic – you _were_ going to have to explain. Shit.

“Osiris would like to ask you what it was about, as would I.” Noticing your discomfort, Saint adds, “Even if you decline, I would still recommend you to go speak to someone, about that nightmare, and all the others you’ve been experiencing. I know the signs of strain when I see them. I have experienced it myself, as have many. As Zavala is currently. As Saladin has for longer.”

( _“This is not healthy, for me, and for you. I would be a hypocrite to deny that your actions are the reason I am saved, but… I fear that the creation of the Sundial, and that your search to find me, has caused more problems than I am worth.”_

 _“Saint,” Osiris says weakly, and he can feel himself crying behind his mask. “You have saved so many; so many, that people look up to you. You are a legend, a hero, a Saint._ My _Saint. You cannot say that you are not worth it –”_

_“You are missing my point,” Saint interrupts, gently but firm. “The City we worked so hard to build and protect is in danger. The timeline itself is shattered, and we do not know the full extent of the damage. New threats are rising up every day – and I am a distraction, when I should instead be one of the catalysts that will help us win against the Darkness.” Saint shakes his head. “I… I need time, to process everything I have been through. Everything I have endured. And to do that, I need to take a step back. The Guardian, I have worked so hard, so long, to see them and their Tower. Now that I am here, I want to help.”_

_Saint raises a hand before Osiris can argue. “Before you accuse me of placing my blind faith in another – can you honestly say, that without their help, we would still be here today? Both of us. Sagira would still be lost, if not worse; perhaps, the desolate Vex future that you see so often would be reality.”_

_Osiris feels his argument die in on his lips, and he places a hand on his forehead, pained. “Saint, I have told you that your obsession with this Guardian is going to be your doom. You cannot–”_

_“It has already been my doom,” Saint points out quietly, “for the thousands of timelines you have seen. Osiris, you misunderstand me. They are the reason I am here today, and that I did not die at that first failed Colony. You provided the technology for them to rescue me, but they are my inspiration. My Guardian. My goal. We have already had our time together, Osiris. And I am not going anywhere. I still love you, but I love my Guardian, too.”_ )

“I saw my grave,” you blurt, and instantly clamp a hand over your mouth. Saint stills. “I… When I mapped the Corridors of Time, there was always an area, I could never reach. While I was dreaming, I found myself back in there. There was a pull – something I couldn’t place. At first, I thought it was a vision from the Traveler, but now I am not sure.”

( _Osiris is silent, for what feels like ages. In his mind, he knows that this is just as hard for Saint as it is going to be for him – Osiris is not one to give up his pursuits easily, no matter the context. And as much as it upsets him, after everything the two of them have been through…_

_He has never been Saint’s keeper. And to truly love someone, you must be willing to let go._

_“Alright,” Osiris says finally, and he can feel himself loosen. He doesn’t know what that means. He is… afraid. “I will… try, to let go. But please promise me that you will not leave again, nor enter the Infinite Forest. I don’t think myself or your Guardian could bear to lose you twice.”_

_“Of course._ )

“I tried to summon my Ghost, twice, but they vanished. And soon, I found my way back to that room. Then… Then my Ghost appeared, on that grave.” Your voice breaks, and you take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself.

“Saint… You began to speak. Distantly, far away, as if through time itself. You… you read a eulogy, for _me_.”

( _Their moment is interrupted by a chime from Sagira. “I know this is like, really, really bad timing, but while you two have been talking, something’s happened.”_

_This catches both Osiris and Saint’s attention, and while Sagira speaks, Osiris pulls up some sort of interface._

_“There was a weird spike of energy within the Corridors of Time just now, and it seems that a simulation is running without us knowing. It doesn’t seem like it’s being commanded by the Cabal_ or _the Vex, though.”_

_Osiris murmurs something that Saint can’t catch, then curses. “This should not be happening. Myself or your Guardian are the only ones who can activate the Sundial, and they are not here!”_

_Sagira and Osiris go back and forth, and Saint stands back and watches. Geppetto is silent – whatever Geppetto’s opinion on his conversation was, that would have to wait._

_It was at that moment he receives a notification from your Ghost – something is wrong with your energies, somehow. But last Saint saw, you were asleep._

_Osiris sees the change in Saint’s demeanor, and waves a hand. “Go. I need to take care of this. And… I will think on your words, and my actions. Just… please give me some more time to process it.”_ )

You fall silent, and Saint still does not speak. “You… You said I was defeated, and that you were going to do your very best to kill what killed me. You…”

You hesitate. You’re too scared to say it.

“I what? Guardian, please,” Saint says softly, grabbing one of your hands with the gentleness of a feather. “Work with me.”

You feel your Ghost gently nudge you, in your mind. _> >Speak.<<_

 _“_ You said, ‘I had hoped, to fight, to live the rest of our days, together.’” You can feel what would be tears trying to form, and your lower lip quivers.

“Saint, are you in love with me? Truly?”

Saint, in response, squeezes your hand.

Nods, once.

“Guardian, I have been in love with you, since the day you rescued me. I may have been involved with Osiris, but for the best of both of us, I am choosing to leave that in the past. I want to spend my new future, with you.”

“I… I am just one Guardian, Saint. Just one. Yes, I saved you, but… I am nowhere near worthy of your attentions, as much as I’d like to be. Osiris worked _so hard_ to rescue you. All I did was use his machine _–_ ”

“You underestimate your contribution,” Saint cuts in gently, and you can tell that he’d been wanting to say this for a while. “You motivated me, when I was ready to give up. That projection of the city your Ghost gave, as well as that talk? I am ashamed to think of what could have been, if it had not been you who had travelled to the past.” Saint shakes his head, and gently cups your chin.

“Yes, Osiris has worked hard to save me, but he has done much damage in the process. I forgave him for what he did by leaving me to search, but _I_ am making the decision for myself, for what I think is best. And I think that ‘best’ is me being with you, in this new future. I want to be the motivation for you, that keeps you going. I want to support you where your Ghost and team cannot, and if I ever should fall, I want you to be the reason you keep going.”

The conversation comes to a halt, as Saint gives you a chance to process his words.

“You do still want this, right? I did not misread your intentions?” Saint asks, hesitantly. “I –”

You silence his worries with a kiss, proper this time, no risk of your lips freezing to his face. You could still taste some of the breakfast you both had on his metal lips. Reaching, you gently cup his head in your hands. “Saint,” you murmur, in so much adoration you feel him grip you tighter. “Saint. I… I _am_ in love you, Saint. If I didn’t want this, you would know. I just feel like I don’t deserve it. You’ve made me feel the most valued _as a person_ and not as a weapon, something that I have not felt in years. You value me for _me_ and not for my strength. You’ve listened to my worries, and helped me come to terms with so much already. It took me a bit to figure this… This type of feeling out, because this is such a different sensation, different way of being _treated_ that I was scared that I would not be allowed it. But since we are, thanks to you – Saint. Please,” you plead, and start peppering the metal scars on his face with kisses, “ _don’t ever stop._ ”

“Then… Let us forget the present, for a little while.” Saint scoops you up in his arms with a soft, welcoming smile, and heads back towards your room.

It’s safe to assume that neither of you got anything important done for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Uni kicked my ass this week, but I wanted to get this out on Valentine's day. I also got stuck on what to write for a good while, especially near the end. I am -very- rusty when it comes to romance, and as an example, I literally had 5 papers due this week all in the span of 3 days. To say my creative writing has suffered would be an understatement, lol. Also, I love O14, so sorry Osiris for doing this to you, but alas, we are thirsty for Saint too... dont worry though, there will be a resolution down the line that involves all three ;)
> 
> Also, if anyone wants to hit me up on twitter, I'm over at [lizardkelp](https://twitter.com/lizardkelp) \- as a warning, though, I tweet about FFXIV (and my OCs) a fair bit. I also talk about me being a dumbass in general, but if anyone wants to come and give a shout and also yell at my shy ass about Destiny, come say hi!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Consensus have a plan, and the Guardian is Not Pleased; however, Saint sees some merits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay - I got hit with writers block and a bunch of work for uni all at once. This is a bit shorter than other chapters, but my goal was to get the story rolling again. I have many things planned, I just needed to figure out how to get there first haha. Also, this chapter is named because I thought my filename was funny. (If you guys want me to go back and name prev chapters, gimme a shout in the comments).

The two of you decide, after a short bout of bickering, that it would best at least for the moment to pretend that everything was normal. Or, well, as normal as it could be for you both – you weren’t exactly nobodies. Rumors had already started after the incident when fighting in the Iron Banner, but you’d more or less brushed off anyone who had asked what was going on.

You and Saint, to your credit, had spent most of the morning talking; which was a feat in itself given what you’d spent most of the night doing. You were definitely abusing your light-regenerative abilities, at this point. (Not like your Ghost could stop you).

All of this was new, uncharted territory.

You felt a bit bad about how Saint had gotten angry at Zavala and Ikora, to be honest. You could understand their concerns, but that warred with your own desires to just… step back, and be happy.

Being with Saint was the happiest you’d been in _years._

You knew this was all going to come to an end, though; the time that had been bargained for you to rest and recover was coming to a halt. It was creeping ever closer, like a coming storm.

It was your duty.

At least you had something, _someone_ to come home to, now. And your heart fluttered at the notion.

_Maybe this good mood could last all day…?_

“Incoming message from the Consensus,” your Ghost chirped from the other room, where they and Geppetto had been holing up. “…Sorry, Guardian. Neither of you are going to like this.”

Saint prickles, ever so slightly – _probably remembering Bannerfall –_ and you raise an eyebrow. “We figured this could happen. What’s the damage?” _There goes that good mood, I guess._

“ _To the esteemed Young Wolf, Savior of the Last City, Slayer of Crota and Oryx, Hivebane, Cursebreaker, and Saint-14–_ ”

“I have too many titles,” you grumble, as Saint bellows a laugh. “Ghost, skip that bit, please. Sorry, Saint.”

“ _It has come to our recent attention that there have been some developments that are of interest to the Vanguard. While we hail the return of Saint, we do realize that there have been some concerns shared about the nature of his return; and, your relationship with each other._

_Unlike the Vanguard, we see an opportunity. The reaction to your participation in the Iron Banner together has presented a chance which we have not seen in hundreds of years – a joyous union, one that binds the city together._

_You are both heroes. Many look up to you, and idolize you. We are sure it goes without saying that the unification of you both would be a great cause of celebration, if you should continue as you are._

_We are not so heartless as to interfere with your very relationship, but we would like to give something to the City to give hope. You two are bastions of humanity, and will continue as such so long as you live and fight._

_There is so much bad news that we have to bring to the populous with the very work that you do, and this also serves as an opportunity to bridge the gap between Guardians and those you protect. We would like to discuss in person what we would like to offer for you, if you are interested in listening to our plans._

_We sincerely hope you will consider our offer of partnership._

_Signed,_

_Executor Hideo of the New Monarchy, Arach Jalaal of Dead Orbit, Lakshmi-2 of the Future War Cult – The Consensus”_

Both of you are utterly silent for a few moments, processing, before you blurt;

“Well, shit.”

You’re slowly learning Saint’s expressions better the more time you spend with him, and you can tell he’s just as displeased as you. In fact…

“They’re not going to let this go,” Saint says slowly, tiredly, and buries his head in his hands. “Although their intentions _do_ seem noble, but I don’t trust it in the slightest.”

“We can’t say no, can we? To this meeting, or this initial offer.” You ask, and Saint shakes his head. “Damn.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, resigned. “I’ve spent so long trying to avoid their bickering over me, too. Faction rallies are one thing, but _this?_ There’s no way they can all agree. Especially the Arach.” You pause, considering. “Perhaps we can sow division so that they’ll leave us alone, too…”

“I don’t think that’s as good an idea as you think it is,” Saint says with a shake of his head. “They’re not going to give up, and I can see the reason in what they’d like to try and do. I know you don’t like attending many events where you have to feature prominently,” he interrupts as you start to protest, “but doing that, in my opinion, is considerably better than having the Vanguard sending you on missions for no reason other than using you as much as they can, when other Guardians are just as capable.”

 _Ouch._ Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Okay, fine,” you grumble, “I’ll hear them out. But no promises.”

* * *

“I should’ve known they would try to cash in on this,” you sigh, as the two of you walk to one of the meeting rooms. “There’s always a price for _everything_ that I do. What could I have done differently…?”

“It’s better than them agreeing with the Vanguard that us dating is too dangerous,” Saint bluntly states. _Good point._ “I’d much rather take things slowly in both of our recoveries and growth together and have the paparazzi hounding us, then us having no wiggle room at all. It’s not like it’s any different than it is now, with the missions you go on, too,” Saint points out. “You’re about as high profile as it gets. As am I.”

The two of you arrive far more quickly than you’d have liked, but you supposed it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. As you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of Executor Hideo leaning over a visibly annoyed Arach Jalaal at one of the tables; a one-sided argument, from the looks of it. And Lakshmi was off in a corner doing… Something. Meditating? You could never really tell, with her. Although, her eyes did blink open the second you entered the room. She said nothing.

_Spooky._

“Ah, you two made it!” Hideo greets, noticing you, and reaching to grasp both of your hands. “Good, good. Come take a seat, we have much to discuss.”

 _Someone’s eager,_ you think to your Ghost. _Should I be worried?_

“I’ll be blunt – Jalaal does not see the point of this, and Lakshmi does not care either way, so I will be doing most of the talking. You and Saint provide an opportunity unlike any other – the City’s two greatest heroes, uniting. You already are the source of much talk, and through various forms of media, like interviews and events, you can not only fund a great many things, but begin to repair some of the divisions within the city.”

_I was right, I should’ve been more worried. Damnit._

“You want us to basically do the equivalent of reality TV, except with any missions we’re on?” Hideo nods. “And for us to do speeches and events promoting Guardians, the city, et cetera.” You sigh, utterly _exhausted._ “Guardians are not politicians or public personas, Executor. Nor is Saint or I your vaunted figurehead that the Monarchy still searches for. We’re just soldiers, protecting what we can. Any room to do something _normal_ is a luxury, and only one I have recently been afforded.”

“Again, for the record,” Jalaal interjects, “I didn’t agree to this. I don’t like this. I thnk it’s a waste of time and resources, and there are other ways you could win people over. There’s far more important things that you two could be doing with both of your time, this ‘luxury’ you speak of, with no offense intended towards your relationship. The world is ending all around us, no thanks to you. You could be assisting the Dead Orbit Fleet instea _–_ ”

Jalaal is cut off by a sharp elbow from Hideo, who breezes onwards like nothing transpired between the two. “Ignore him, please. He’s just bitter and lonely, and far too focused on impending doom to realize the state of the City as it is. There are far more divisions than you may realize. Didn’t you see some yourself, when you ventured into the city on your own? Many are frustrated. I am sure I do not need to remind you as to why.”

You close your eyes, and count to ten. How the Speaker managed to deal with these people, you never knew. He was far more patient then you were, at any rate. “My answer is still the same. No.” You weren’t going to budge on this. You _weren’t._ “Perhaps you should take a look in the mirror, and see what resources _you_ have that you could use to prevent some of the current anger? You don’t want a bunch of Hawthornes running around, right?” You’d seen the scans, the missing supplies scattered around the tower. _Get your head out of your ass, Executor. Can’t you see I’m struggling to balance everything as it is?_

“I could report your activities in Gambit and the investigation by the Praxic order instead,” Hideo offers breezily, as you freeze in your seat. You… hadn’t quite told Saint fully about that, yet. Just another thing to discuss, then. “You are already on thin ice, Guardian. You are reckless – you are dangerous. But I am a staunch believer that you have great potential, provided you are given the opportunity to _be happy._ Our goals align, Guardian. To protect the City, and to protect humanity. We need not bring doom and gloom wherever we go, even with what your reports from the Moon say. You can do something _good. Unquestionably good.”_

That was a low blow, but you could definitely see now why Hideo had rose in the ranks. _Ugh._ “First of all, rude. I know my faults. Second; I said, _no_.” Okay, now you were being a bit of a stick in the mud, but you were Not Okay With This in the slightest. You’d tried _so hard_ to avoid being somebody’s pawn. And your business with the Drifter was… Well, being managed. You didn’t want your life being publicized, either. You had barely any boundaries as it was!

Saint, pointedly ignoring you, gestured for the Executor to continue. He was… Interested. _Uh oh._ You and him were going to have a _talk_ later.

_> >Still working on the relationship, indeed. Maybe this insistence of his has something to do with him finally having the chance to see the City he worked so hard to build? Or that he misses it, more than he lets on… And the City being divided probably breaks his heart.<<_

Your Ghost raised a good point. Maybe Saint was okay with this, but you were most definitely not. Socializing was not your forte, and that went double when it came to speeches and events. You’d only been alive again a short time, compared to everyone else, and there was _so much pressure_ on you already.

“All we would be asking you to do, in essence, is indulge in the general public’s curiosity, and also publicize the hell out of any Trials of Osiris matches you partake in with Saint’s commentating,” Hideo points out, gently. Slowly. As if not to spook a sleeping bear. “It’s nothing much, nothing more than you are already used to. Perhaps it will provide more opportunities. But an angry City is not a healthy City, and the best way to own up to the dangers that your actions have caused at this point is to give some good news that we all so direly need.”

“I am not the most elegant speaker, nor the nicest person. Yes, I acknowledge have been the source of many issues and problems that the City has had to face, due to my actions. Executor. What part of _no_ do you not understand? Even as a distraction, yes, _I am dangerous_ , and making me a figurehead will not fix _any_ of my mistakes. _Many_ want me dead. Won’t making me a figurehead make us even more of a target by our enemies? I _–_ ”

“Hold on, love. He has good reason,” Saint interjects calmly, as he places a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t realize that you were shaking. “I am inclined to agree to this arrangement, but only if you change two terms of this agreement, so as to make my Guardian more comfortable.” _My Guardian._ If you weren’t already sitting, even in the current argument, you could’ve swooned. You turn to stare, wide-eyed.

“One,” Saint starts, “we get to pick and choose what we share with the public, what events we go to, and what outreach we do. This is _our lives,_ and _our relationship._ If something goes wrong, although I have confidence that it won’t, we want the chance to be able to make as graceful an exit as we can. I can see the merit in having us as figureheads, or as pseudo-celebrities. I don’t like it either, but if the City is as divided and angry as you say, then this is a good start.” The Executor nods, and Jalaal looked more frustrated by the minute. Lakshmi… was still in her own world. “Two, any and all profit that the Factions make goes back to organizations and charities that the City has that needs the help the most, or towards funding for defense and the Guardian orders. Is this agreeable?”

You pretend to ignore the miniscule fistpump the Executor just did right in front of you both. “I agree to these terms. Jalaal? Lakshmi? Where does the Dead Orbit and Future War Cult stand?”

“I would have hoped to use some of the proceeds of these efforts towards our efforts, but alas. Yes, I agree,” he says with a pointed stare at the Executor, “ _especially_ if _none_ of us are receiving the funding directly.”

Lakshmi, continuing to stare at you and only you, blinks once. “We of the Future War Cult do not care either way. Know the only truth is war, Guardian. You'll always be needed. The Tower may fall, the City may fall. The Future War Cult shall endure. But if there is a way to prevent either, we will endorse it. War is in our future, but it does not have to be here.”

Clapping his hands, Hideo handed both you and Saint a datapad – a legal agreement. “With that settled, we just need you to look through these agreements here. You will get full power over what you share with the public, but all eyes will be on you. Thing of it this way – it will not be any different than the attention you drew at the Iron Banner, only this time, far more beneficial.”

You look to Saint, and he shrugs, as if to say, _Don’t worry about it too hard._ “This is going to be great,” Hideo exclaimed, as Jalaal buried his head in his hands. “You won’t regret this, I swear.”

You could hear Lakshmi’s faint laughter in the distance, the most straightforward thing she’d uttered the entire meeting. If she was _laughing_ about this whole situation, it couldn’t be all _that_ bad. Assuming she’d seen the future, as was her nature.

This wasn’t any different than what you’ve already experienced; only now, you would be probably making tabloids. _Great._ Better that than bad news reports…

Right?

If only the future were so kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for that delay. Also, can I just say, I am SO glad Saint isn't leaving at the end of the season. I will go flawless for u and only u Saint
> 
> As a side note, I have not had the pleasure of doing Faction rallies, or having much interaction/background knowledge on the Faction leaders/Consensus in general. I had to do a ton of research for this, so if there are any inconsistencies with their characters, please let me know, because I'm trying to pull together what I can. I've only seen vids/bits of dialogue, so I'm doing the best that I (as a new light) can. Without further ado, less politics, more 'fun' ahead! Come hit me up here [lizardkelp](https://twitter.com/lizardkelp) if ya want too!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm not dead! Just, uh, had the crap beaten out of me by irl. I'll talk more at the end notes, but thank you for your patience!

After your meeting with the Consensus, things were quiet for a day – far too quiet, for your liking. The whole thing made you incredibly nervous. You still had a bit of time off, and while you were still forbidden from going out to fight, there were other things still left to do around the Tower that you could get done in the meantime. While you knew the arrangement was in the City’s best interest, your life and accomplishments were already quite public as it were.

 _Oh, well._ At least this time you had someone else stuck in the same boat as you.

Speaking of Saint, you’d almost entirely forgotten that you still had a large amount of Fractaline to donate. You understood that you had to bank it carefully so none of it would get damaged, but the whole effort took you 6 plus hours to donate in its entirety. Exhausting as it was, you’d received a ping from Saint when you’d finished, telling you to meet him on Mercury. Finally, all that hard work had paid off!

You didn’t notice the cameras at first, but when you lit the beacon, the whole city could see your excitement. Saint knew you and your friends were busting your asses to get Fractaline, along with everyone else, so having the honor of being the one to light the beacon was quite special in itself. You weren’t sure what it was going to be for, but according to Saint, he had been working hard with the Consensus on it behind the scenes the entire time and recent agreements simply helped his plans. You had asked him once about what role he wished to play now that he had returned, and you figured this had to do with it.

Though, when you saw the announcement of the resumption of Trials a day later, as well as Guardian Games in a few weeks time… You’re not sure what to feel at first.

Excited? For sure. You knew that Saint had been working hard on this, and you were more than happy to support him. Nervous? _Holy shit¸_ that was an understatement. You enjoyed the Crucible as much as the next Guardian, but Trials was another beast entirely. Trials, to you, is a _lot_ of pressure to perform, so when you get a notice from your Ghost that the Consensus is expecting you to compete, you don’t get much room to complain. _Figures._

Later, back in your rooms, you sit on the couch with a vacant expression as Saint attempts to reassure you by rubbing your back.

“I am going to die,” you wheeze, as you question your life choices up until that point. “Horribly. Is it too late to ask for my Fractaline back? Even a little bit? Just so I don’t have to participate in Trials?”

Shaking his head with a laugh, Saint gently tilted your chin towards him. “It’s going to be great! I do not understand why you are so worried. You are the strongest that I know! And I will be there, cheering you on. Also, they never said that you had to immediately go Flawless, yes? Have no fear. It will be another few weeks before it starts up, so you should do well to prepare.” As if to emphasize the point, Saint gently pecked you on the cheek, before getting up to go shower.

“ _Noooooo_ …”

* * *

You two decide to head down to the City proper for dinner, and you can’t shake your unease, especially due to your last experience down there. This time, Saint had promised you, they’d be going somewhere both Guardians and civilians both dined at, so there’d be less of a chance of harassment. While you were touched, you _were_ literally beamed to the airwaves only a few short hours before, so you’d no doubt attract attention regardless.

You don’t hesitate to hold onto Saint as he drives his sparrow through the roads in the city, hugging him tightly as the wind whips in your ears.

As you arrive at the restaurant, and thankfully, receive little hassle, you enter and make your orders before sitting down. Saint seems to notice your ease, and smiles warmly at you. His care was definitely appreciated, and he knew it.

The two of you start talking as you wait, and, keeping it light-hearted, you decide to start telling Saint about some of the weird things you’ve found across the solar system.

“Frogs? On Nessus?” Saint bellows a laugh, disbelieving.

“Yup! That whole area is super weird though, honestly. And don’t get me started on some of the plants and shit I’ve found all over the place. I'm gonna blame it on Hive fuckery, but Titan is _super_ weird when it comes to that.”

You pause, then perk up. “Oh! Do you know about the cats in the Drea- wait, no you wouldn’t. When I first visited the Dreaming City, I thought it was really weird, but there’s a bunch of cat statues scattered all over the place,” you say with a laugh, and Saint leans in to listen. “Anyways, so when I’d go and do stuff for like, clearing out Lost Sectors and rescuing some of the Awoken Corsairs, sometimes as a reward I’d get a small pile of stuff that smelled like mint in a bowl. I always thought it was weird, but one day, as I walked by one of the cat statues, I figured I’d see what would happen if I put the bowl in front of it.”

“And?”

You smile at the eager tone in Saint’s voice, grateful that he was giving you the chance to talk _and_ enjoying it. You always felt like you had to put on a front to please others, to be what you were expected to be… With Saint, you could be yourself. It’s a warm, relieved smile, full of care and appreciation, and you hope that Saint can understand it.

You’d never felt like this before, about anyone. Perhaps it was fate that the two of you met – a Perfect Paradox, in its own right; forever bound by the Light and the Infinite Forest, for all the years to come.

You’re about to tell him this, but hesitate, feeling your Ghost scream inside your head all at once about _stop being an idiot holy shit_ , and instead focus on the moment.

This was new to you.

You had some thinking to do, that was certain.

Saint seems to notice this near lapse, but thankfully doesn’t say anything. You return to the topic at hand.

“Well, it was super weird, but I got armor and stuff from each one. I’m still confused about how, though there’s a lot there that doesn’t make sense, either. Magic space cats, am I right?”

The two of you spend the rest of the night talking, and you enjoy it while you can.

Today was to be your last day of rest, whether you wanted it or not.

* * *

Saint wakes up to an empty apartment. While he knows he should not immediately be worried, something, this time, was off.

Part of him wondered, just for a second, if he was still trapped in the Infinite Forest – if all of his experiences, this entire reality, was just a sick trick from the Vex to punish him right before they killed him.

Geppetto, having phased next to him, turned to look at Saint, and gently nudged him.

Saint blinked. Breathed. _Think it through. Don’t panic._

_This is real._

There was no magical note left behind to tell him what happened – no sign that you or your Ghost had been there the previous night, at all. Your bed was perfectly made, and there were no dishes in the sink, so Saint doubted that you’d even had breakfast.

“They left on a rescue mission this morning,” Geppetto states quietly, breaking the rush of silent panic that was steadily getting worse. “I still have access to the Vanguard channels. It seems they’re trying to keep the mission’s existence a secret – or Zavala is, anyways.” If a ghost could roll their eyes, Geppetto would definitely be doing it right now. What goes unsaid is the ‘why’, if anything happened to go wrong. “As far as I can tell, they’ve been sent back to the Moon. Two Fireteams went missing overnight after investigating a disturbance. Before you protest–” Geppetto pauses, as Saint lets go of the breath he had taken to speak, “your week _is_ up. Orders are orders, Saint. You know this. All we can do is wait.”

“That does not mean I have to like it,” Saint grumbles, and moves to sit on the edge of your bed. “Do you have any more mission details? Just so we can be prepared for when they return.”

“So far as I know, they’re working near the Hellmouth right now, but moving towards some of the older bases in the moon. Their last mission update was an hour ago. Don’t worry,” Geppetto says with a gentle nudge, “they’re due to give an update in another half an hour. You have time to make it down to the Vanguard briefing by then.”

“Alright” is the only thing Saint says as he transmats on his armor and practically sprints out the door. He barely registers the alarmed gasps of the people he sprints by, and Saint practically broke down the door to Zavala’s office, despite his best effort to withhold the urge to bash it in with his shield.

Gepetto, trailing closely behind, let out a huff of irritation.

Zavala’s, Ikora’s – was that Eris?–, eyes turned towards him as he entered, and while Eris was partially occupied by monitoring two feeds on a nearby monitor, Ikora at least waved hello. Zavala… ignored him, pacing.

Saint wasn’t having it.

“Why did I have to find out through _classified Vanguard channels_ that the Guardian was away?” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and Ikora flinches ever so slightly. “No notice, nothing.” What goes unsaid is _do you know how panicked I was to wake up this morning, alone?_

“This was a sudden need for a rescue, and they’ve been cleared to fight again by one of our Warlock med-teams,” Ikora assures, and Saint grows even angrier.

“You didn’t even tell their fireteam? Give them some support?”

“That was not our choice, actually. Your Guardian requested it. They, in their own words, wanted to ‘give them more time’ before they worked with them again, and also see how they were doing rust-wise on their own. We aren’t expecting something that they would not be able to handle on their own.”

Saint lets out a frustrated noise, and crosses his arms as he addresses Zavala directly instead. Saint knew he wouldn’t win a war of words with Ikora. “Could you not have picked _anyone_ else for a rescue mission?”

Zavala says nothing, his gaze settling on the Traveler, and instead Eris is the one to respond. “There is no point in standing there arguing over what has already been decided,” Eris’ voice rumbles from the background. “I was the one to request them specifically. They are out there, and that is that. The reality is that, aside from me, they have far more experience in these matters and the only reason I am here and not on the moon is because Zavala requested my help too. And whether you want it or not, they have far more experience dealing with the Darkness as well as the Vex than any of us combined, second only to you. Time was of the essence. And nightmares, hostile ones, are not to be trifled with. _I would know._ ”

Saint is about to argue again when Ikora holds up both of her hands in a placating gesture, then beckons Saint over. “Come, sit. I will grab you some tea. We still have 15 minutes before their next update, so please don’t panic. You of all people know how capable they are, so there should be no reason to worry.”

He didn’t like this. But Ikora’s peace offering was appreciated nonetheless.

Saint begrudgingly sits on one of the nearby couches, and wrings his hands. The dinner last night with you had been special, and Saint found himself wishing that he’d prodded you when it seemed you were about to say something, but hesitated. He was truly enjoying his time with you, and part of him wanted to keep you all to himself. It was selfish, yes, but after what Osiris put him through with his cryptic, destructive absences, you were a breath of fresh air. Your faults in having to fight were borne out of necessity and following orders, and that was something Saint understood.

It was a far cry from disappearing into the Infinite Forest for an endless, fearful, wholly preventative fight, at any rate. At least _this_ time he knew where you were, and who had sent you there.

That smile that you gave him, though, he would do anything to see again. Small, hesitant, _special_ – just for him.

If anything went wrong, at least he knew who to hold responsible.

He would ask you later about it what you had meant to say, then hesitated. He _would._ That was a promise.

“Hello?”

Your voice bursts through static on the line all at once, and Saint and the Vanguard dash over to Eris’ monitor, tea abandoned. “This is Vanguard ID #2014 checking in. Do you read?”

Zavala breaks his silence to address you, _finally_ , and Saint hovers in the background. “We read you loud and clear. You are not where you were before. Where are you now?”

“My Ghost is tagging this as an alcove in… the Lunar Battlegrounds? Which, I was already there, and isn’t a new area to me, but… Oh, that’s strange.” You fall silent for a moment as your Ghost transmits an image of the area, filled to the brim with Vex and enemies tagged as Champions. “This is the same area that I took when my Fireteam and I entered the Garden.”

“Did you not already eradicate most of Vex in that area when you opened the gateway inside?” Eris asks, and you make an affirming noise.

“I thought I did, and haven’t heard anything for weeks. I hate to say it, but the Guardians who ventured here are probably dead since they likely thought they found a strike against regular Vex. I’ll try to see if I can find any of the bodies and their ghosts and sneak around the perimeter, and then I’m getting the hell out of here to get my team because if this is like any of the other missions in areas that have been re-infested after I’ve cleared them, this is probably due to a nightmare hunt I’ll have to lead. This one is going to hurt without any help. Is that alright?”

“Yes, it is. Please keep transmitting intel to us as you go, Guardian,” Zavala affirms, and Geppetto tries to quell Saint’s rising panic at the mention of Vex involvement.

The line is silent save for the sounds of you sneaking, and Saint can hear the sounds of the Vex marching in the periphery.

“Hold on for a sec, I hear something.” There’s the sound of shuffling as the screen goes dark, and everyone flinches at your sudden yelp of pain.

“Shit, shit, shit, _shit_ , I’m good, hold on…” There’s silence as your Ghost presumably heals you, and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “I think this is one of those larger nightmares leftover from Hashladûn’s fuckery or _something_ , shit _._ Honestly, the Vex could not have picked a better base, as this is really well hidden and already literally right there for them to enter and exit. _Only_ took nearly dying to two hydras to get here. Though, to be fair, not a lot of the Vex are very creative in firing lasers at me, but still. – Hold on.”

There’s a large blast of laser fire over the line, and a following gunfight. Once it subsides, an eternity later, Saint hears your voice once again, now sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

“I think I found two of the missing Guardians – their Ghosts are, um… Well, blasted by what almost just got me. Commander, I think they’re all dead. I’m gonna see if I can get the data from them and get the hell out of here. There’s a large cavern up ahead, so I expect to find the others over there.”

There’s no time for anyone to react as everything is drowned out by a sudden, piercing scream – your scream – then, dead silence.

Saint breathes. In, out.

“Guardian? Guardian! Report!” Zavala’s voice booms.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5… the seconds ticked.

Silence.

_In, out._

No response from you, or your Ghost.

“Eris, try to re-establish the connection!”

Saint can barely hear the commotion over the static growing in his mind, and Eris’ response is just as dismal. “I cannot establish a connection to their Ghost, nor can I sense their presence to summon them.” She shakes her head, once. “The Darkness interferes.”

“Damnit. Keep trying!” While Zavala outwardly appears calm, Saint can see the panic in his eyes.

He turns to face Ikora, who has grown pale.

She nods, once. _Go._

Saint is barely aware of the Void light that swirls around him as he leaves the room, sprinting, focused only on getting to the Hangar and to the Gray Pigeon.

This was a nightmare – _this was **his** nightmare._

Saint hoped and prayed with all his might, prayed to the Traveler, to whatever power that was listening, that you were alright.

He only hoped that when he arrived, he was not too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I am SO sorry for the wait. I've had a lot going on and since the whole quarantine started I've had 900 things going on at once as well as uni moving online, and I've had to deal with numerous health related problems as well as more recently injury. I'm okay for the most part though, and I hope you all are, too. 
> 
> I promise I won't leave y'all on a cliffhanger for too long >:D and thank you all for your comments and kudos in the meantime, it means the world to me and has definitely kept me going amidst these hard times. You guys can always catch me on twitter at [lizardkelp](https://twitter.com/lizardkelp) :)
> 
> Once again, thank you SO much for sticking with this story! Please let me know what you think, and I'll see you all again soon!
> 
> Also, fuck the 1080 nightmare hunts, lol. Catch me bubbling in the back XD


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Environmental hazards, the Vex, and how to fail at avoiding a deadly combination of the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for claustrophobia and severe injury.
> 
> Note at end as of 28/11/2020.

In hindsight, _maybe_ bringing an extremely powerful rocket launcher into an already battle-worn cave wasn’t the smartest idea.

Your mission went downhill the moment you entered the area; the glare of what felt like a legion of Vex fell upon you all at once, and you ducked back around the corner as you tried to reorient yourself from the blinding light.

_Shit._

You dare to peek around the corner once more only to see another portal appear, and an unmistakable Gate Lord emerge from it. The Nightmare energies surrounding it confirmed your earlier suspicions, and you suddenly felt very ill. Of course, it was a Darkness Zone. Why wouldn’t it be?

It was almost fitting, seeing Zydron again, regardless of how long it had been since you’d been to Venus and entered the Black Garden. His death was the start of so many events that you had a hand in, both victories and losses alike. He’d long been pushed aside in your memory since, now having the distinct displeasure of having so _many more_ things to worry about. 

The spatter of Vex lasers assaults your ears as you come to a decision – you could either stay and fight, or flee. _Surely_ by now you should be strong enough to fight him on your own, having killed so many other, more powerful Vex since. But…

This was a Nightmare, and not meant for one person to face alone, regardless of your confidence. Especially if that Nightmare of Crota was anything to judge by, given how difficult that one was even _with_ your Fireteam.

You had to get out. _Now._

Sprinting back down the corridors towards the exit, you run face-first into a barrier of energy that warps in front of you the second you reach the mouth of the cave. There are no lesser Nightmares in sight that you can see surrounding it to take it down, which left only those that were in the same room as Zydron.

If you were to escape, you’d have to go back in.

“Ghost, can you raise comms? At all?” You ask in a rushed breath, as you duck around a corner at the sound of a Hobgoblin’s laser fire.

“No, I can’t – and there’s something blocking me from accessing your Vault, too.” While your Ghost’s voice is calm, there is an underlying note of urgency. You were stuck with what you had on you at the moment, which consisted of your Perfect Paradox, Symmetry, and Heretic rocket launcher.

Could be better, could be worse.

Aside from the few Hobgoblins and Harpies chasing you to the blocked exit, from what you could gather, Zydron seemed to be largely sticking to the back of the cave. That meant that any lesser Nightmares would be surrounding him, and you’d be stuck picking them off from afar if you wanted any chance at escape.

“Well, isn’t this just peachy,” you quip to your Ghost as you dash forward to shotgun an oncoming Harpy to the face. “I mean, we’ve faced worse odds, but…” Darkness Zone, no allies to help you respawn, and absolutely no comms or help available. “I’ll be honest, I’m kinda worried.” 

“We _were_ in the middle of reporting to the Vanguard before we got jumped, so it’s not like this is without notice,” your Ghost points out – though that instead leads you to wonder about something, _someone_ else, and how badly he would react if he found out.

Saint… Saint was, well, _saintly_ , to both you and your worries. To be honest, you still really didn’t know how to handle it. The praise and reverence he afforded you made you feel the warmth of what felt like a thousand suns, but at the same time, still felt partially hollow. Your worries about your actions having consequences shadowed everything you did and have done, but Saint was one of the few living successes you had compared to the void that the loss of Cayde had left.

You promised yourself you’d try harder to listen to his words, but that was still quite far off, in your mind. Relationships, immortality, the line between the Light and the Dark; it was all so confusing, and it left you reeling each time you tried to figure out just what your place in the universe means for the future of everyone else.

You were allowed to be happy, though. And now, at least, you had someone to share your burdens with, even if your current actions suggested otherwise.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t tell him about this, I guess,” you half sigh, half mumble. “He already worries about me so much as it is, and while I’m still… Working out my issues, I worry about him getting angry at everyone for my choice to undertake this.” It had taken you a lot of gentle nudging from your Ghost that very morning to actually go and _want_ to get ready, but, a mission was a mission. So many were relying on you.

You reach the entrance to the cavern once more, half checking that Symmetry and Heretic was loaded with a flash of a weapon swap. _Good._

Zydron has its back turned to you, but the few other Minotaurs and Vex sense your Light the second you step through the threshold. You take a deep breath, moving to find cover on one of the nearby stalagmites rising from the floor, and scan your radar for any lesser Nightmares you can pick off.

There – off to the side, near the rightmost rungs of the Vex gate. The harpy, while seemingly looking for you in a confused daze, had the telltale energies that emitted a lesser Nightmare, and seemed easy enough to pick off from afar with just your Symmetry alone.

Switching it to its Arc Seeker mode, you let off a few shots at the nearby lesser Vex blasting at you, and then towards the Harpy. Not all of your shots land as it swoops around to dodge, but the action finally gets Zydron to turn to your direction.

You reload as fast as you can, and narrowly manage to dodge a hail of laser-fire that sends you stumbling into the ground. The ground of the cave shakes, and you can hear the distant sounds of rock hitting metal. Whatever the Vex were aiming at, they missed badly enough that it blasted the very cave itself.

 _Great._ Another thing to worry about.

Checking your radar once more, the Harpy you were targeting has about half of its health left before it’s down for good, which is a good sign. You hadn’t wasted any of your rocket launcher shots yet, and given how much the Vex were destroying the cave as it was with no care at all, you were hesitant to use it.

It would be a last resort.

Pivoting around again to blast a few Vex with Perfect Paradox that were getting too close, you swap once more and aim your Symmetry towards the Nightmare Harpy. It was close to Zydron now, but still at a point where you could at least fire a few shots so that splash damage from either you hitting Zydron or the Harpy itself would kill it. It would hopefully be enough for you to make an escape, at any rate. You had got further pushed into the room than you would have liked, while still being relatively close to the entrance; but the Vex were inching you closer and closer towards the open area…

You don’t have time to dwell as you fire again and again, ducking only when you see the Harpy begin to shatter and explode. _Perfect._ Now was your chance to make a dash for the exit, and you weren’t going to waste any extra time.

You sprint towards the exit as your heart pounds in year ears, closer, closer, _so close and you’ll be out of the cavern_ –

The blinding light of a Vex teleportation device is all you see as a Minotaur appears right in front of you, stomping the ground with it’s landing and sending you flying towards the center of the cave.

Dazed, you can feel the shift of the Vex in the room as they spot you lying there, prone to attack. There’s a ringing noise in your head as you push yourself upwards with a fist, and your entire body feels like lead.

Your Ghost is healing you as fast as you can, and the hail of Vex fire does nothing to help you as you try and scramble, half stumbling, towards one of the walls in an attempt to get out of the open. In one disconnected moment you can see yourself there, trying to crawl away, and then Zydron and so _so_ many Vex making their way towards you.

There is another flash of light with teleportation, and you need to do something, _fast._

_In, out._

There’s no time.

You swap to Heretic the second Zydron teleports onto you, letting out a blasting shot that not only hits the Gate Lord directly at its core. In the same moment, Zydron let out a powerful blast, but missed as your rocket shot forces its arm upwards towards the ceiling.

The last thing you hear is a rumble, before everything goes black.

* * *

Guardians and City Militia alike give Saint a wide berth as he makes a mad dash through the Tower, using boosts from his shield to vault over barriers to get to the Hangar faster. Because he had begun to set up for Trials, transmatting into his ship and going up and away wasn’t so simple.

Geppetto is silent as Saint makes his way onto the Pigeon, only pointing out the co-ordinates of your last known location, and assisting in the takeoff. The only other time Saint can recall being this nervous over something was when Osiris initially left, and he first started to chase after him. While this wasn’t anything like vanishing into the Infinite Forest, Luna had its own set of horrors that both you and Saint were yet to deal with.

He can see a commotion below as he readies himself for transmat, and as he lands, he can clearly see it for what it is – a group of Fallen fighting off an angered Vex over near where the waymark Geppetto had set. Whatever you’d done before you lost contact, you’d certainly made enough of a mess, seeing that the enemy was almost comically focused on only each other.

Saint pulled out his sparrow and boosted forward, ramming down a few dregs as the bike careened over one of the many craters left behind from the combined enemy destruction of the Moon. Saint has to duck his head a few times as he feels the attention of the Fallen shift their attention to him, his helm and demeanor unmistakable enough to make him priority number one.

Were it not already such a dire scenario, Saint would’ve laughed at the sudden explosion of his sparrow after a captain decided to shoot a scorch cannon at his head, and missed due to getting shot in the back by a Harpy. A comedy of errors, but Saint was unscathed, and he _would_ push forward.

Sparrow now destroyed, but at least having made a lot of headway, Saint now focused on throwing his shield and sprinting through the battlefield. There was no time to waste – the clock was ticking. Everything was a mess, and all around were shades and corpses of both Vex, Hive, Fallen and Guardians alike.

Saint could see the battered remains of dead Ghosts sitting by their Guardians faintly in the distance, and he felt a shiver of discomfort. At that moment, it became abundantly clear why some chose to avoid having patrols on the Moon entirely.

A Guardian graveyard, in all rights.

When he makes it to the entrance of the place where your signature was emanating from, _finally_ , Saint can barely make sense of what it used to be. He knows it’s a cave, _was_ a cave, but the roof was all but destroyed – at the back stands the lone Vex Gate, and scattered everywhere beside it is dead Vex that were either crushed by the collapse, or from whatever attack you had unleashed.

With a sinking feeling, seeing as all the Vex in the near vicinity were crumpled so harshly, Saint brought out Geppetto with a wave to help scan the nearby rubble for any sign of you. He could still sense your light, that much was certain; it was just a matter of from _where._

In the back of his mind, as he sprinted from one large pile of rubble to the next, Saint recalls an earlier conversation you had with him about how the Vex could never truly imitate the Light, and about how you’d found his corpse.

_(You stare over at Saint’s now stored Perfect Paradox, with a sad gleam in your eye. “When Ghost told me initially about meeting you, it was when I was looking for you in the first place. Before… Before I found your body, before I rescued you.” You say in a whisper. “And I found Perfect Paradox. Saint, you have no idea. The Vex – they made a monument to you, made out of all of the Vex that you’d slain in your search. Your Light, it returned to your body after we freed it, but you were already long dead…” You shake your head. “It just hung there, floating over you. Like a halo. I–“_

_Saint tries to interject, likely to reassure you. “Guardian…–”_

_“You don’t understand,” you cut in abruptly, and wring your hands once more. “Saint. I found your body. I only found Geppetto when I was trying to configure the Sundial. I know you have encountered many permanently dead Guardians over the years, as have I, especially in the wake of the Red War. This, I think, was far worse than anything I’d ever seen. Shit, Saint.” You shake your head. “That Vex mind that drained the Light from you? It was guarding you. I’ve never seen anything like it.” You gaze over to him, expression serious enough that Saint freezes. “In the end, it seems, they learned to respect you. I just wish it didn’t take breaking the timeline to save you…”)_

Saint is torn out of his memory at the sound of a loud chirp from Geppetto, and with a start, he sees a plume of dust from where Geppetto had begun to transmat away some of the largest pile of rubble in the area. While the overwhelming sense of Darkness that the Vex usually brought with them was gone, whether or not you had enough Light to heal revive was another issue entirely; the sooner he got you out of there, the sooner he could see.

Saint powers his Light into his arms as he disintegrates both chunk of rock and Vex alike, being cautious in the few moments he had to help Geppetto move one of the larger pieces of rubble away on the off chance that you were stuck underneath. It’s a slow, agonising process, and Saint isn’t sure how long he’s spent moving boulder after boulder after boulder until he finally hears a small gasp from his Ghost and the sound of coughing.

There, in the center of it all, is a small crevice at the bottom of the largest pieces of rubble where Saint can see what looks like your hand pinned between the rocks and a sliver of the darkness inside. The Gate Lord that guarded the place is also crushed underneath, and Saint notes with a grim satisfaction that its core was entirely destroyed and emptied of radiolaria.

Saint’s heart pounds in his ears as he carefully, with Geppetto’s help, clears away the last of the rubble, only for your Ghost to wobble forward and nearly smack Saint in the head. He catches them all at once, and with the barest of whispers, Saint has to strain to hear their voice.

“I tried to.. Keep them going as long as I could… They fired a rocket, and, and—” There’s a crackle as it wobbles once more with finality, “Zydron missed his shot and shattered the roof…”

As your Ghost dims in Saint’s hands, Saint sees you shift, now largely free of the rubble. Your legs and arms are twisted at odd angles, and your helmet destroyed enough that he can see what certainly would have been permanent damage had your Ghost not worked so hard to keep you alive. But, it’s more than he could have hoped, and is something he can work with. His vengeance against the Vex that had done this and the conversation you two needed to have could wait – the real issue he had to deal with was in the now.

“Suh… Saint…?” You mumble, blearily, as Saint can see your eyes struggle to focus on the sight before you. “You’re… You’re not s’post’d be here…”

“Shhhhh, shhhh…” Saint coos to you, as he pauses as Geppetto examines the damage. Saint places your Ghost gently in a satchel, as Geppetto starts listing off your injuries.

“Their right arm is broken, and their left is dislocated. Their spine managed to stay in one piece, which is good, and their left leg is practically shattered. They also have a few broken ribs and a severe concussion.”

Oblivious to Geppetto’s declaration and the panic that is growing in Saint’s chest, you blather onwards. “I’m… ‘m just gonna chalk this up to the Vex being generally angry at me…” you quip with a weak cough, “or S-Savathûn wanting the throne n’ fucking with them so they’d get angry at the first thing that came through h-here.” You roll a bit as he moves to grip you gently, “I guess since I last cleared this cave out, nobody’s checked back s-since…” It’s clear to Saint that you’re rambling, but given your state of injury, it’s far more important to him to hear you speak so he knows you’re still conscious.

“The Warlocks in the City’s hospitals can fix this, right?” Saint asks, to which Geppetto chirps in confirmation. “Alright, I am going to lift you, and we are going to get out of here.” Quieter, as his voice shatters into static, “Please… Stay with me.”

Oblivious to his thoughts and worries, you babble onwards, your voice lilting to every step of Saint’s now mad sprint towards a safer spot to evacuate you.

“Sure is… f-fun times… Or s-something. You know, I’ve made a lot of gods angry… I think? Maybe? I’ve lost track...” You were delirious, that much was clear with the concussion, but... Were it any other circumstance, he would have found your blathering charming. “Blasting me is one thing, but blasting their own base causing a cave collapse is… new. Though I guess part of the blame is on me this time, but still…”

Saint… Saint didn’t know what to think. Geppetto was screaming in his ear to _hurry_ to a rendezvous point that they’d just received the co-ordinates to, and all he could mumble out in response was a “Please keep talking” which jarred against the crumbling reality surrounding him.

As he exits the cave, Saint can distantly see one of the Vanguard’s jets in the distance firing at a group of Vex he assumed were actively trying to blocking his escape in a vengeance; the cover fire was appreciated, and also gave Saint the very opening he needed to pull Geppetto out once more with an arm still half wrapped around you.

“Pulling us to orbit in 5… 4…” Geppetto drones, as Saint rapidly looks around one last time to make sure that it’s well and truly safe.

As you’re pulled onto the Pigeon, you faintly hear Saint whisper to you, as he lies you down on one of the spare cots.

“Please, by the Traveler… I can’t lose you too. I have waited so long to see you, only for me to fail you when you needed me most once again. Please... Please, not so soon.” It feels like there’s water in your ears as he rumbles one last thing before you descend to the depths of unconsciousness.

“Please, my love…”

* * *

You felt warm.

There were arms around you, strong and secure.

Your eyes felt like they were weighed down by the Traveler itself; and, upon further attempts to move, so too did your entire body. There was no pain, only the feeling of a great weight upon you in your attempts to move, contrasted by the overwhelming sense of _safety_ from the warm body surrounding you. You could feel at the edge of your conscious that your Ghost was _alive_ and okay, and in a nearby area, but even that exertion of your Light seemed to hurt.

_What…?_

You try to cough out a word, anything, but what come out is nothing more than a wheezing warble – the warmth moves away in an instant, and the second it leaves, you feel yourself involuntarily shiver.

Compared to his normally loud, booming voice, Saint greets you with a voice that sounds as soft as velvet. “Guardian…”

While your eyes are still struggling to open, you can feel the shift of the bed you’re on dip as the large Exo moves to sit beside you. You feel a hand gently grab your chin as your head is tilted upwards, and the cool press of a glass of water before it trickles down your throat. You swallow, and while your head becomes a bit clearer from the previous haze of exhaustion, you can’t help but lean in to his touch.

“S-Saint…” Your last memories of the Moon are jumbled, caught between your final moments fighting Zydron, and the feeling of being carried in Saint’s arms. “You… How did you…?” You ask, half not-wanting to know the answer; while you hadn’t exactly lied to him, you knew _exactly_ what it looked like when you left. Saint strokes your cheek for a moment, before he responds.

“I noticed you were gone when I woke up in the morning, and Geppetto was able to regain access to the Vanguard channels and figure out where you were.” Saint says it bluntly, and you can tell he’s trying oh so hard to withhold some of his worry and (understandable) anger. “We were in Zavala’s office as you lost contact, and I went to find you moments later.”

You’re finally able to crack open your eyes, and you’re met with an expression of pain and anguish on Saint’s un-helmeted face; you were almost certain that yours mirrored his, too.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I got called in, and…” _I couldn’t say no._ “…I thought I was ready to go back. I guess I wasn’t, that, or, or… I just got unlucky.” Saint rubs a thumb over one of your hands which you can now see have thin bandages on the majority of them.

You really don’t want to ask this, but given how tired you are, it must have taken a _lot_ of Light to heal you. “How… How long was I out?”

“Three weeks.” The immediate silence that follows Saint’s response is telling, and you can’t help but wince.

“I am not your keeper, Guardian, but… I want to be your partner. A friend. A confidant. And I know, as hard as that may be, it will require as much your trust as it will be mine. I have overreacted to your exertion in the past, but I think that the Vanguard are finally at a point of understanding that they can’t just always rely on you and you alone.” He lowers his head, and shakes it gently.

“It took multiple warlocks healing you separately with their wells as well as other energies to replenish the significant amount of Light that you lost, and your Ghost almost didn’t make it. You were very, very injured, and,” Saint adds as an afterthought, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. You are fully healed now, which is why they decided to wake you up from your medically induced coma, which is part of the exhaustion you are feeling. I… I will return you to your apartment, and then, if you’re feeling up to it, we can talk more about thi-”

“I’m sorry.” It’s two small words, in the grand scheme of things, but you really, _really_ are – this time, it’s as much a comedy of errors on your end, as much as everyone elses’. You were not going to wait, as the guilt that weighed down on you felt just as heavy as the rocks that had crushed you. “I… I really haven’t had to communicate without anyone but my Ghost before, and… I’m sorry. You deserve better.” You can feel tears forming, but you push onwards. “I’m trying, Saint. I… I really am. If…” You take a deep breath. “If you don’t want me after this, I… I understand. I—”

“Don’t you _dare_ finish that sentence,” Saint growls all at once, as he pounces forward and captures your lips mid-sentence. “You’re _mine_ ,” he says, his metal plates moving against you even as he speaks with a gentleness and passion unlike anything you’d ever seen. “ _Mine_. Not anyone elses, and I have waited so, _so_ long to have you. If you think I would leave you even after this, you’re horribly, horribly wrong.” As if to seal his point, he kisses you again – not bruising, no, but deeply, and the purple glow of his eyes bare into you all at once. “We will work through this. We will move forward. But you are _my_ Guardian, first and foremost, and I love you so, so much.”

You can feel your lips wobble as you try to formulate a response, and all you can summon instead is a half sob, half laugh, as you press your forehead to Saint’s. You get another sense of deja-vu, from when you’d first encountered him what now felt like so long ago, and you finally, _finally_ realize, that just maybe, he was right in saying that everything was going to be okay.

Slowly, you kiss him back after your sobs subside, and you feel one of his hands move to gently cradle the back of your head. He is so delicate with you, something you’d only ever seen with when you had spent time feeding the birds and entertaining the children of the city.

The kiss deepens, and a faint purr rumbles out of Saint as you part to take a breath. Saint’s hands move on their own, one still cupping your head so he can gently begin nipping at your neck, and the other now rubs a thumb on your hip. While you want nothing more than to continue, you place a hand atop the one on your hip with a smile.

Regardless of what the future held, he is your savior, _your_ Saint-14. No more nerves; for once, you would be the master of your own fate.

_In, out._

“Let’s… Let’s continue this somewhere more private, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November note - with the confirmation of Osiris and Saint, which as you have seen I had plans on bringing a resolution to the earlier conflict in this story (and even having a multiship down the line) even though I write the guardian as nonbinary in this (and being nb and queer myself) I need to decide whether or not I want to continue this story. I'm very happy for the representation, so I sure aint complaining, and while there's not that much left on this one, the plan was as follows:   
> Rasputin/the almighty (one chap only, watching the shit get blown up, I mostly have YW/Saint sit out because I actually really hated that season lol)  
> Season of Arrivals  
> \- Prophecy (we go in with saint)  
> \- Worries over the pyramids – discussions on the Darkness, the things that were seen inside the dungeon (dialogue would be changed, and this was where stuff with Osiris would slowly begin again)  
> \- FotL stuff (like with the ship, whatever the fuck the ascendant lens was, us going to investigate on that + actually giving a reason for it)  
> Bridging the gap from Shadowkeep to BL  
> \- working on getting osiris un-exiled since saint is concerned, and YW doing most of the legwork to make that happen  
> \- (as well as a lot of just general worldbuilding to get back to this point, as well as just. more so not necessarily ot3 but yw/saint as one thing and saint/osiris as another, so it'd be poly but not necessarily a love triangle and having mutual respect between both parties (ppl are immortal, theres enough saint to go around lmao)
> 
> So as of right now, I'm not sure what to do, but I'm going to say i'm going to put this on a halt officially as i consider my options. Regardless, thank you for reading, and if you have any input on what to do any comments or advice is appreciated :)
> 
> (Og note) This chapter also has a bonus work that I will be posting alongside it later today, which is an explicit (NSFW) continuation of where this ends titled "Throughout Time, Only You".


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